The story of the disembodied moon
by makomoshuu
Summary: When a boy is thrown out by his severe, pure-blood family, he is taken in by the coarse mannered, morose owner of the Hog's Head. At first, he roughly dismisses any attempt to communicate. However, it soon becomes clear that this man's disposition could not be any more unlike what has been claimed by the wizarding world.
1. Chapter 1

Domorphius Slackly sprinted down a deserted side-street on a bitterly cold morning. It was still dark, the sun having not yet peeked out from behind the horizon's shoulder. His breath came out in puffs; his eyes raked the numbers on the letterboxes of the dilapidated houses floating on the thick layer of mist, which was reluctant to part with the ground.

He had never come to St. Mungo's before, and as his eyes skimmed over the never ending stream of numbers which the muggles used to mark their houses, he fought to control a rising sense of frustration. Clutching the letter in his right hand tighter, he quickened his pace.

Morph:

I know this is coming at a real late time, but I've told Norberta to not wake you. We're back at St. Mungo's, his mum's been readmitted. He came running to the Hog's Head a few hours ago and told me where he was going.

Also, we just found out Ols' been made prefect! We haven't been able to celebrate or anything obviously, but I reckon we should. Wouldn't want him being too underwhelmed by this influential position or anything right?

The watch witch says the visitor's entrance is at 93 Kent Road. I don't know what ward his mother will be transferred to, so just ask at the front desk.

See you soon.

Io

P.S: Watch out for the muggle down 25. He's got a dog the size of a bear, crazy bugger.

A vicious bark woke him out of his reverie. He snapped back, his right hand making an unconscious twitch for his wand, just in time to see a bear-like dog latch its fangs around the air where his arm had been a mere second ago. A wizened toothless old man hobbled out from behind the fence, clicking consolingly at his dog.

'Brutus', he crooned, giving the young boy ahead of him an apologetic smile, 'leave him boy, get down!'

The dog let up, reluctantly, and trotted back to his wizened owner, licking his hand profusely. The man hurriedly shoved what looked like a large strip of cured meat into the dog's mouth and patted its hind repeatedly, urging him away.

'Sorry son, don't know what's gotten into him lately', he muttered. 'Are you alright?'

'No worries, I'm well and whole.'

'Good, good.' He muttered distractedly. Morph noticed his eyes were quite unfocused and gazed out in opposite directions.

'A-are you alright, Sir…? Need any help?'

'Nah…no worries boy, he's a gentle beast tha' one. Woudn' hurt a fly he wouldn''

'Alright then, have a good day then.'

And with that, Morph resumed sprinting. But then, letting out a chuckle, he looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, the number 25 was painted in peeling paint on the fence.

He had spotted the place where Io had said St Mungo's would be, but couldn't find any place that seemed like an entrance. He strode over to the display window, coated with what looked like decades of incrusted grime. Lowering himself onto his knees and putting his two hands on the window, he pressed his nose close to it, trying to look through, even as his breath frosted on the windows. He couldn't see anything inside, nor did anyone or anything address him. He noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. One of the ugly heads swivelled it's unnaturally long neck at him, it' dislocated eyelid hanging on a thin plastic hinge. The effect was quite unnerving. Feeling foolish, he cleared his throat and started addressing the possessed plastic dummy.

'Uh, I'm here to see a friend of mine. His mum's Augusta Scant, she was readmitted earlier today.'

'Alright, please step through the glass.'

Thanking the dummy quickly, as was dictated usually by social customs- he wondered if they applied to a dummy, even one which had been possessed. He put off his mind's many tangential outbursts throughout the morning to the earliness of the hour. He stepped over the threshold and walked into a large, sanitised room filled with posters and chairs, none of which housed any people at the moment. He walked towards a counter which a witch was manning- or womanning, rather, as his woozy mind reminded him. He took in the posters warning wizards against an assortment of malpractices; dirty cauldrons: **"A dirty cauldron turns a potion into a poison"**, non-ministry approved charms: **"Use your brain, refrain!"**, and badly brewed potions: **"If in doubt, throw it out." **He leant forward to scrutinise a poster depicting a wizard shrieking in agony, the caption was in a loopy script-

'Hey sugar, I know them posters are precious and all, but you aren't just gonna stand there gawking are ya?' squelching her gum round her mouth, she cocked an eyebrow at his silence.

'You're with the Scant kid right? Go up to the 5th floor, Eileen ward, 3rd left'

'Alright thanks.'

Jogging up the stairs past the rushing St. Mungo's healers hauling wizards with weirdly distorted body parts, carrying vials of strange potions and pushing laden trolleys, he felt like an intruder, the only one not wearing a haggard expression.

Heaving a sigh as he reached the 5th floor, he realised that there had been no need to tell him the whereabouts of the ward. A few feet away, bundled under what looked like a thin overcoat, were his two closest friends; Io Sonorous and Oliver Scant. The only sound in the corridor was the steady, rumble of their separate breathing and the occasional shuffle or tug as they attempted to shift the overcoat to better shield them from the cold. He pulled out his wand, and soundlessly, a few tendrils of bluish flames flowed from its tip, which he scooped into a jar which he'd fashioned out of thin air. He sealed the lid and put the jar in their midst, so they'd all be warmed. Then, as his weariness crept up on him, he shuffled closer to the friends he hadn't seen in two weeks, slid down the wall and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

He was becoming aware of a distant muttering, which intruded upon the weird psychedelic dreams he'd been having. Unable to neither remember nor register their happenings even as they occurred, he instead turned his attention on the incessant muttering which was rising in volume.

'Looks spent, I thought you told Norberta not to wake him?'

'I did, didn't I? Maybe she forgot...oh well. I won't wake him up now okay so that'll be my penitence ok? No harm done.'

'Are you telling me you can't even train your owl?'

'Yeah well we're not all as _prefects my daaarling!_ Heh!'

'Whatever, be careful what you say to me, I might decide to add another detention to your repertoire.'

'Are you threatening me Scant?'

As he gave a feeble chuckle, their heads swivelled towards him.

'Morph! I didn't realise you were awake! How are yo-

'-And more importantly, how in the hell did you get here?'

Grinning, he rubbed his eyes wearily adjusting himself into a seated position.

'Ah yeah, I got Io's owl see, and I'm good', yawning loudly, he carried on, 'Norberta caught me when I was awake anyway, so I ran over. It's been a while, how've you guys been keeping?'

Upon catching his eye, Io's amber eyes lit up and he reflected his own roguish grin. Then, throwing his arm dramatically around Oliver's shoulders and ruffling his wavy hair, he adopted a pompous accent and demeanour.

'Well, Oliver here has been made a PREFECT! I am so chuffed my good friend, 'tis such a position of influence! Congratulate your fellow my good sir!'

Throwing his head back and laughing, he let go of Oliver's shoulder and grinned at the both of them. He caught Oliver's eye, though dishevelled and weary looking, he looked happy to see them again.

'Yeah congratulations Ollie, we all knew you'd get it! Well done!'

'No brainer really', added Io, nodding imperiously, his eyes crinkling into yet another broad grin.

The door of the ward dedicated solely to long-term inpatients opened, and Oliver was ushered aside by a short, kindred-looking old healer, who wore what looked like a dragon tooth around her neck. As she drew him aside, Morph noticed that Oliver didn't look as well as he had before they had parted for the summer holidays; his dirty-blonde hair was longer and more dishevelled than the style to which he'd always religiously kept, bluish shadows were clearly visible beneath his brown eyes, which at the moment, were narrowed warily. As the healer continued conversing with him, he nodded his understanding and, seemingly out of sheer exhaustion, his frame folded in on itself, at which point the witch consolingly laid a hand on his shoulder. Io rose to his feet, but simultaneously, Morph tugged at the back of his robes, and Oliver turned and smiled reassuringly. Sitting back down, Io turned to Morph with a chuckle.

'Why'd you tug at my robes you dunce?'

'I just figured he'd need time to compose himself if he was overwhelmed, you know him. Besides, he's walking over already' muttered Morph with a low chuckle. As he did so, Io's elbow became reacquainted with his ribs.

As Oliver strode over he noticed their muted grins, and as he sat down, he felt a wave of gladness for their presence wash over him.

'Well, budge along; I'll fill you in on what she said.'

Shuffling along on the ground of the deserted corridor, they settled in closer together and to the skirting boards. The sight of them cut through the gloom of St. Mungo's.

'Mum's gonna be staying here again, maybe long-term, that's why they moved her to this ward. Drosophila says the damage done by the curse may still have renewed effects on her, as if it was on her.'

'Will the life threatening effects still act on her too...?'

'No...Not the life threatening ones' nodded Oliver, seeing the shock that had crept on their faces.

'And do you know anything about the person who laid the charm?'

'The folks down at the Auror's office haven't been able to catch who did it, last time I heard anything anyway...I haven't been told anything much. '

'If there'd been anything new, they would've had said _something_, so I'm guessing, whoever it is, they're still on the loose,' muttered Io gazing at a wizard who lay alone in a bed which had no photos or personal belongings, as the other long term patients had. He looked sickly and pale, and was watching them as they muttered animatedly, out of everyone's way. Morph followed Io's gaze and saw the man, just in time to see Io raise a hand in greeting, which the man returned with a smile that crinkled his heavily scarred face. Morph smiled his greeting hesitantly upon seeing the man's smile also. Oliver however remained oblivious to the man sitting in the ward opposite them. Genuinely happy to see someone who wasn't incurably ill-looking in the ward, Io got to his feet, and approached the wizard slowly, allowing him chance to reject his obvious request to talk with him.


	3. Chapter 3

'Heya', Io called out as he made his way across the room, 'my name's Io, you don't mind us ruining the quiet do you?'

'Io... the innermost of Jupiter's Galilean moons huh?' he scratched his chin with an amused grin, then continued, '...that's some name you got there son. ' He gripped the hand which Io held out; his grip was limp and weak. 'It's always quiet around here, I'd break something to shatter the silence if I didn't wanna get kicked out, so don't you worry', he chuckled, and cocked his head at the other two, who had just followed Io into the ward, 'and you fellas all together? You don't look related.'

'Nah, we're not related, I'm Morph-

'Actual name's Domorphius', interjected Oliver with a grin at him, 'but we call him Morph.' Upon seeing the man turn to him Oliver added quickly 'Oh, I'm Oliver-

'We call him Ollie though, Oliver's too ponsy', interrupted Io with a chuckle to the room at large, fighting back a snort of laughter, he added, wiggling his eyebrows at Oliver.

'Well, nice to meet you too Oliver', he smiled, his green eyes twinkling mischievously, 'You guys are probably the first to come in here for a long time. My name's Lucas Riley.'

Io strode out quickly to the doors of the ward, put his head round the door and walked off. The three left in his wake glanced at each other quizzically. Lucas cocked an eyebrow at them, making the crisscrossed scars in his face shift as he did so.

'He does this often then?'

'No not really', smiled Morph, 'I guess he might be getting something?'

'Anyway, what brings you boys here? It's not exactly the place to have a slumber party', he said, jerking his head in the direction of the thin overcoat and now empty glass jar.

'Ah... my mum tried to lift a curse for the ministry a few months ago, it did something to her, we're not sure what though', murmured Oliver quietly, 'She's been readmitted in here just this morning, did you see her come in?'

'Lifting a curse?' Lucas tried to catch Oliver's eye, only when he had done so did he speak, 'You mean the case with Mauritius and Augusta? You'll be Augusta's son then?'

'Yes, yes I am. Do you know my mother?'

At that very moment, Io came in carrying three chairs, one tottering precariously on his shoulder. Laying the three down, he wiped the sweat which had collected on his upper lip, and grinned at them. 'There, have a seat gents.'

Noticing that Oliver had returned his gaze to Lucas, Io fell silent.

'Returning to your question Oliver, yes, I do know your mother. Augusta, as you know of course, works as a high level witch in the areas of counter jinxes and elemental transfiguration. Therefore she works alongside many ministry departments, including the Auror office, misuse of magic, obviously, and the department of mysteries.'

'So you know her through the ministry?'

'That's correct', said Luke, readjusting his position with a grimace and pushing his brown hair back off his face, he leaned forward. 'Your mother is a very skilled witch, and I have the utmost confidence we will be able to overcome the state in which the curse has put her.'

'We?' asked Morph, leaning forward in his chair now as well, 'Lucas, do you know anything about what happened?'

Gazing over their heads for a mere second, Lucas glanced around for his wand, without reaching for it or speaking. They heard a faint buzz descend over them. Seeing Oliver sit up straighter and his eyes narrow, he spoke quickly.

'I have, as you noticed Oliver', he inclined his head at Oliver, attempting to reassure him. He saw him nod and relax slightly, but not completely, 'used the Muffliato charm so as to not be overheard. If you wish, I can lift it', he offered.

Oliver promptly shook his head quickly, 'No I just got worried when you did it without indicating. What you've got to say is important I suppose.'

'Yes, it is thank you. Anyway, I do in fact know which charm was used, however, I also have been injured in the course of my work, and given the nature of it I have not been kept completely in the loop. However, I hope to answer whatever questions you may have, to the best of my knowledge.'

'Was it the Aposterius charm then?'

Upon hearing the word, Lucas raised his head, looking straight at Morph appraisingly. Seeing the question echoed across the others' faces, he smiled. 'Yes, it is the Aposterius charm; you know I suppose what it does?' As they nodded in unison he cocked his head at them appraisingly.

'I'm assuming you haven't been told this by anyone, ''cause we were all clearly instructed not to', grinning, he directed his eyes to Morph, who seemed to have been the one to suggest the charm initially, judging by Oliver's awed expression and Io's raised eyebrows. 'You deduced this by yourself Morph?'

'Uh, well I suggested it, but then we discussed the possibility from all angles together.'

'And you came across this charm in your study? Or do you guys enjoy _light_ reading?' He chuckled knowingly, 'you don't seem like bookworms.'

Io grinned; he understood Lucas' surprise, of course. The type of book that features such a complex charm would be a large volume made for those who are furthering their knowledge in charms beyond NEWTs even. They had had to get written permission from Professor Flitwick to allow Madame Pince to allow them to even come near it.

'But you said 'we', Oliver pointed out with an air of mounting impatience, 'who's the 'we'?'

'We, is, in the way that I use here, a generic term for a bunch of people who work at the ministry, in the areas I mentioned before, and I am part of the 'we'.'

Many who worked at the ministry did so under a cloak of secrecy so as to protect innovations which affected counter jinxes, more powerful forms of magic housed in the ministry, and operations which sought to capture dangerous wizards, and so on. To admit to being to one of these people, especially to a bunch of under-aged wizards, no matter how smart they may be, was funnily enough, unspeakable. However, he could see no way out of the hole he'd dug for himself. And, added a small voice in his head, they deserve the truth.

Wishing to rouse him out of his pause, Io leaned forward and making sure to speak quietly, he asked, 'You're an Auror then?'

'I am something along the lines of that, at times. However, I am part of a group who experiment and seek to understand and control if possible, certain obscure corners of magic.'

The three boys looked at each other, each wondering if the other has heard of any such place. Io looked from Morph to Oliver, his eyebrows raised. Morph's blue eyes were slightly narrowed and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and intertwining his hands and Oliver's gazed out the window, his eyes glazed over as the cogs of his brain almost audibly sought an answer.

'I've never heard of any such department in the ministry though', Io murmured, a light edge to his voice, he glanced up at Lucas, silently observing his reaction.

'Just because it is not widely known, because its purpose is not overt', he articulated cryptically, gazing at each in turn, 'doesn't mean it does not exist'.

At that moment, Lucas gazed over their heads at the doors again, having apparently heard something, and the buzz which they'd long ago forgotten had existed, lifted, leaving behind an eerie silence. A mere second later, a cheery wizard with brown dreads and many earrings strode into the ward, pushing a trolley laden with mouth-watering food.

'Morning Lucas, you got visitors this morning ay? I'll bet you fellas fancy some nosh as well.'

'Hey Reg. You had a good night? Sounded like that shift was a tough one.'

'Ugh... we managed to save all those people who came in for the poisoned snakeskin. We'll be getting more by the looks of things.'

They had not realised that three ravenous boys were waiting for him to dish out the food, their eyes glued to the trolley.

'Yeah well dunces who can't identify the difference between snakeskin and dried doxy droppings are still allowed to have kids I'm afraid. Beats me why they don't just-

The loud rumbling of a stomach alerted them to the rising level of hunger in the room, and they turned towards Morph, who tried looking apologetically at them for interrupting, but his stomach had decided to growl till its demands were met.

Chuckling, Reg scooped bowls out of the air and ladled piping hot pumpkin soup into them. He then laid out scrambled eggs and toast. Grinning, they accepted it, with many thanks and continued to communicate in what looked like troll, as they shovelled down scrambled eggs with many grunts and gestures.

'Thanks Reg!' managed Oliver after swallowing the most beautiful scrambled eggs he's tasted.

Io grunted in agreement, giving the healer the thumbs up through streaming eyes. He'd swallowed down the piping hot soup too quickly.

'No worries, I'll catch you guys around ay, and don't keep Lucas up too long, he's a nut when he doesn't get in his afternoon nap', and with that, Reg wheeled the trolley onto the next bed, ducking a paper cup which Luke had aimed at his head with a laugh and leaning over to speak kindly to a young girl suffering from what looked like dragon pox.

The four of them spent the remains of the day in the ward, talking in hushed voices and comparing the 'old' and 'new' Hogwarts, comparing exam results and bragging about Oliver's position as a prefect. In their mind however, as Lucas knew, they had already deciphered his words, and now, not only did it seem obvious where he worked, but for the very first time since that fateful day, they felt hopeful about Augusta Scant's case.


	4. Chapter 4

_It had been a sultry afternoon, the heat of the sun hung in a low haze over the grounds. Io was in a light slumber against the trunk of the elm under which they sat, the waving leaves making playful patterns on his fine boned features. Oliver had propped upon his knees a volume of the journal of Recent Endeavours in Elemental Transfiguration. His eyes glided over the book as he muttered the contents of the journal to Morph out of the corner of his mouth._

'_Well, it doesn't look like anyone has figured out a way around transfiguring food, this old guy made a whole law about it, so I suppose Io was right after all.'_

''_We may forget to mention that when he's woken up though', added Morph, chuckling at the sight of his now snoring friend._

'_He'd be smug, the dumb dunce', agreed Oliver with a knowing grin. 'Anyway, this guy, Gamp, he's called...', resumed Oliver in a simultaneously awed and disappointed voice. 'He says, and I quote; "Food is the first of the five principal exceptions of elemental transfiguration."'_

'_So you can't make it appear out of thin air then?' _

_Oliver and Morph turned to the boy now gazing at them through the one eye he had opened, grinning. _

'_I was right then wasn't I?' _

_Laughing tiredly and rubbing his eyes, he held out his hand to them, wriggling his dark eyebrows. 'That'll be ten sickles- each.' He trilled in a would-be-sweet voice._

'_Not quite' exclaimed Oliver hurriedly, 'the other exceptions were semi-precious stones, metals and powerful magical objects. You weren't completely right.'_

'_So the deals off,' added Morph with mock finality._

_Deftly avoiding Io's hands as he got up and chased them, they had run about the deserted grounds. As Io proceeded to dip Oliver's head into the great lake while crooning; 'give me my 10 sickles O-lliee', and Morph tried to pull him off, dusk-and a faint white speck- was fast approaching._

_As the speck grew larger and was accompanied by a flapping of wings, Io abandoned his hold on Oliver, and they stood watching the imperious owl holding out its leg pointedly a few metres away from the chaos which it had witnessed moments ago. Not recognising the owl, they all gazed at it, the grins still goofily plastered on their faces. Upon clicking its beak impatiently at them, Morph approached it, only to have it strut away._

_Scratching his head, he turned, bemused, to the other two._

'_Must be for one of you guys then,' he murmured, eyeing the moody bird in mild amusement._

'_Well, my folks wouldn't send me anything...And they don't work at the ministry,' muttered Io, motioning the official looking scroll attached to the grump's leg, 'Must be for you Ol.'_

_Oliver strode out to the owl, wary of any signs the owl still didn't wish to be approached. It stood there stock still, and held out its leg once more. He unfurled the scroll and read it, the remains of his goofy grin disappearing. _

_Dear Oliver:_

_There has been an incident which required the attention of the Department of misuse of magic earlier this afternoon. The details are, as of yet, not available. However, we regret to inform you that one of the Ministry's employees, Augusta Scant, was grievously injured. She is currently in St. Mungo's being treated for curses and suspected dark magic. Please understand that this is an issue requiring the utmost secrecy. We implore you to not leave Hogwarts. We will correspond with you and update you as adequate._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Condomire Preston_

_Head of Misuse of magic office_

_Ministry Of Magic_

_They had only a moment as Oliver turned to the elm and started packing. The other two followed wordlessly, and promptly followed suit. As Oliver struggled under the weight of his books, Io fingered his wand and their belongings rose above their heads. They sprinted up the tower to find Flitwick's office, Oliver explaining the contents of the letter in a punctuated commentary as they went. The West tower was the farthest from the Great Hall, not to mention it was a great ascent. Their breath came in gasps as they ascended the steep staircase leading up to the Ravenclaw tower. When they reached the door of Flitwick's office, Morph fluttered his wand and their belongings were transported to their dorms._

_Oliver nocked curtly. At once, the door opened and the short Professor who was forever bouncing on the balls of his feet was bouncing no longer. It was in testimony of the graveness of the situation that he motioned for them to sit with sombre face and still posture. _

'_I have of course heard, Oliver,' he commenced, acknowledging his accompanying pair with a nod. He continued in his squeaky, yet strangely reassuring voice. 'The healers tending to your mother at St. Mungo's have been joined by Professor Dumbledore and Professor Slughorn. I have high hopes of your mother's injuries being reversed.'_

'_What exactly happened Professor? They didn't say in the letter.'_

'_There was a cursed charm employed around a vicinity known to be frequented by muggles and wizards alike. The exact location is unknown. Your mother, being a skilled charm breaker, travelled to the scene to attempt to lift it alongside another wizard, Mauritius Bagman,' Flitwick trailed off, reorganising his trail of thought after a short pause, he recommenced. 'Late this morning, they sent word that the curse seemed to be that of a skilled Dark wizard. They were joined by Gornknog, a goblin employed by Gringott's as a curse breaker, shortly thereafter.'_

_The three boys leant forwards, unsure as to why Flitwick had paused. _

'_Then what happened?' _

'_As it so happens Io... we don't know what happened after Gornknog arrived and they employed a complex counter curse.'_

'_However,' he added after many moments of silence, during which Oliver had gazed at the rapidly darkening skies beyond, 'I do believe I know enough about charms to know the effects of the charm.'_

_Glancing at Oliver, who understood it to be a question as to whether he may continue and nodded, he continued._

'_I believe this particular charm was brings up the most unholy objects in the mind. The life threatening effects have been contained in a small area, but there may be, I'm sorry to say my dear boy, longer lasting effects.'_

'_Oh,' Oliver trailed off, no longer able to remember what he'd wanted to ask._

_Putting a hand on his shoulder, Io leant forward and spoke directly to Professor Flitwick._

'_Professor, the Ministry,' of morons, he added in his head, the other two sensing his pause, knowing what occupied it. This wasn't lost on Flitwick, whose eyebrows had risen slightly up his face. _

'_They said that Ollie can't go see his mum, that he's to stay in Hogwarts, can't you..,'_

'_I'm afraid I can't overturn such a direct order. It's best you remain here, for your safety. Also, your mother will most likely be in no state to be visited for a few weeks I imagine...'_

_Oliver lowered his head, deliberately slowing and deepening his breathing, trying to understand what this meant for his mother. Through a haze, he heard Flitwick profusely reassure him he will do his utmost to help, that his mother's health is no longer threatened, that there was nothing to fear, 'Dumbledore's on the scene now, as we speak!' He felt Io's grip tighten on his shoulder. Looking up, he smiled at the Professor who was now gathering his things, travelling cloak in hand, and proclaiming that he was off to St. Mungo's to 'join Albus and Horace.'_

_He allowed Io to lead him out in a daze. He felt Flitwick grasp his hand in both of his, and he realised how small and fragile the Professor swearing an oath to do his best to improve his mother's condition was. Feeling a wave of concern for the tiny wizard's safety wash over him, Oliver gripped his hands back. _

'_Take care Professor, thank you.'_

'_Not at all, my dear boy! I will keep you posted.'_

_And with that, he hurried off into the corridor leading down to the main hall._

'_Shall we go eat? Or do you want to go sit in the common room?' asked Morph, watching Flitwick's retreating back._

'_We should probably eat,' he nodded, as if in emphasis, his stomach growled._

_They had walked along in silence, each pondering the same thing. What type of enchantment would require a goblin, a notoriously highly skilled curse breaker and two wizards to lift, in addition to that, Dumbledore, Slughorn, Flitwick and countless healers to cure?_

Halting in mid-sentence Lucas had turned once again towards the doors, the way he'd done when Reg had walked in. Io and Morph looked round, the movement caught Oliver's eye and he promptly snapped out of his reverie. The healer at the head of the ward, Drosophila, walked in, a tall, willowy witch with long auburn hair in her tow. A young girl with a lively face bounced along behind them, her blue eyes twinkling cheekily and her tight brown ringlets bouncing around her face. Upon seeing them, she gave a delighted squeal and grasped her mother's hand, pulling her impatiently towards them. Morph got to his feet and put his finger over his mouth silently at his younger sister, whose squeals had caused heads to turn irritably. She nodded, her eyes wide, and said nothing else.

'We woke up and you weren't there Domorphius,' said the auburn haired witch, fixing Morph with an irate look, her voice quiet but clipped, 'no note, nothing. I would've expected better, even under the circumstances, yes?'

Morph's face went pink, and he hung his head, they heard him mutter very quietly. 'Sorry mum, I... forgot, it won't happen again.'

She gave a sniff and a small twitch crossed her face, 'that's quite alright, I'm glad you are alright.' Her demeanour warmed slightly and she smiled at Morph. She turned her gaze to the other two boys in the room.

'Hello Io, Oliver, everything all right?' after they nodded their agreement, she handed Oliver a bright green form.

'Oliver this is a declaration you need to fill, so that they know you have a place to stay. I've already explained that you'll be staying with us, so you just need to sign it.'

Oliver looked from Morph to Mrs Slackly, the relief and gratefulness evident on his face. Giving a clipped chuckle at his surprise, she looked at Oliver with mingled amusement and disappointment. 'You didn't think we'd let you live on the street for two weeks did you?' She inquired.

'Thanks, I don't know what I've would've done otherwise,' he admitted, glad he didn't have to ponder the alternative.

'Io of course, you'll be joining us as well. I understand you already have your school things with you' she added, an undertone of distaste creeping into her voice as Io's expression sunk slightly. 'You do know we're happy for you to stay over any time you want, right?' she said, probing his expression, 'Next time you leave, I don't want you sulking back to that awful Hog's Head with that goat charmer or down some muggle alley.' Io nodded at her, a niggling guilt building in his chest that he wasn't defended the reputation of the only person that would allow him lodging and money in return for work.

'Uh- yeah, yeah thanks Mrs Slacks.'

She turned to the man around whom the boys had been huddled, his face weathered and battered, half of his eyebrow having been burnt away by the looks of things, and a long thin scar running through his mouth as though it were a zip.

'Hello, I'm Lucas, nice to see someone's taking care of these boys,' he held out a hand as weathered as his face.

Mrs Slackly looked at Morph, her eyebrow cocked ever-so-slightly, before grasping the man's hand briefly, with a tepid smile. Morph could see he she was waiting for some sort of explanation, and as he started on an attempt, Lucas cut in.

'I'm with the Ministry; know Augusta quite well through our line of work. I was just answering some of the boys' questions regarding the incident.' His voice was curt, and colder than it had been when he'd been talking to them before. Apparently he'd noticed that Mrs. Slacks didn't approve of their being in his presence. Morph tried to catch Lucas eye to apologise for his mother's coldness, but Lucas was not looking in his direction. Mrs. Slacks, Marietta in tow, was ushered out of the ward by Drosophila, and they gathered around Lucas once more.

They left the ward soon after, Morph having apologised to Lucas, and all of them having promised to come visit whenever they came to see Augusta Slackly.


	5. Chapter 5

Io ran down the cobbled side street, in the direction of the pub which none of the muggles milling around seemed to be able to see. Stepping over the threshold into the pub packed by people sheltering from the miserable mid-August gloom, he called out a cheery greeting to Tom the landlord, and stepped through to the back. He was met with a solid wall, an apparent dead end. He took out his wand, tapped a brick in the middle of it, and the wall fell away. It was replaced instead by the majestic village of Hogsmead, which, despite the gloomy weather, was packed with excited students and parents busily buying books, robes, animals and ingredients, trouble makers avidly peering through Zonko's joke shop's windows and children running excitedly around the true kingdom of heavenly delights, the one and only, Honeydukes.

Straying away from the hustle and bustle, he strode in the direction of the Hog's Head, hands buried in his pockets, face down and breathing into his chest to shelter from the bitter wind. They'd be back here soon in Hogwarts, it was nice to come and see Hogsmeade before the stress of their OWL year started in earnest. As he pushed the doors to his favourite place in Hogsmeade by far, he felt the smell of Butterbeers wash over him. There, behind the gleaming bar stood Aberforth. His long hair had been cropped to a short, spiky style since he'd last seen him and his long matted bear had also been dispensed with. But the rest of his appearance was the same. The unnervingly bright blue eyes, which were almost identical to his brother's, the wry smile with which he greeted him from across the room and the hoarse timbre of his voice.

'Glad you could finally make it, sleeping beauty.'

Bemused, Io looked at him, unsure as to what they meant. Sleeping beauty? It sounded like a witch-care potion.

'Old Xeno Lovegood just walked in here with some babble about some muggle fairy tale about this girl who falls asleep for a long time,' he supplied, 'seemed to think yer may be suffering from the same condition, when I told him you'd been away for the whole night.'

'Told me to look for crumple horned Snorkacks,' he snorted, 'witless dunce still isn't convinced they aren't real, says he's going on an expedition when he gets the money.' Io was still bemused, and it must've shown on his face for Aberforth waved it away. 'Don't you worry,' he fought to hold back another snort, 'the many eccentricities of Xeno could fill a whole encyclopaedia, don't expect to understand. Want anything?'

'Uh- yeah a butterbeer thanks. Xeno was here? How's the business with the poisoned gerbils going?' inquired Io, taking his drink with a gesture of thanks and sipping through the dense froth.

'Ah yes, Xeno just left. About the gerbils, I managed to get the blasted things under control and out of the back, but we don't know who planted them there. I get the feeling that Hagrid may have accidentally dropped them, the things he carries with him...but I'm letting it drop anyhow. They didn't do much damage, if any'. Aberforth went about cleaning the bench top and stacking glasses on the counter behind him.

'Well, just got a letter from your friend's mum this morning... sounds like a _fine_ woman,' this bit he had muttered sardonically. 'Says she'll be happy to keep you till the end of the holidays, so you're packing up and leaving today are you?' he inquired lightly, fixing Io with a serene gaze, ''course I don't mind you staying if you'd like, nice to have some company and an extra pair of hands roun' the pub y' know.'

Io shuffled in his seat, unsure as to what to say to him, when he'd helped him out of such a tight spot these past two weeks. On top of that he could barely imagine staying anywhere other than the Hog's Head, having developed such a close friendship with the wizard. Finally he looked up and grinned at Aberforth, 'I at least owe it to you to help around till the rest of the holidays, would've been stuck in that muggle alley for the rest of them had you not come arou-

'You don't owe me nothin' boyo,' he said, his eyes crinkling, 'you've done more work cleaning this pub in the past two weeks than I have in the past five years.'

Io gave a loud snort of laughter; he had to admit he agreed.


	6. Chapter 6

_When he'd first come here, Aberforth walked around the pub morosely, communicating with him in unenthusiastic grunts, his hair and beard long and matted, and his demeanour muted. The floor was filthy, the glasses were smeared with a glutinous substance that looked suspiciously like snot, the bottles stacked haphazardly behind the counter were covered in dust and the lodgings were dusty, cobwebbed and smelled of mothballs. He'd never before seen anything like it. He still wondered how Aberforth had managed to attract the many, albeit strange, clients of his. _

_The first time Aberforth had caught Io cleaning, he had not reacted well. _

'_What in the blazes are you doing boy?' he muttered, eyeing Io with a shocked look. Io had had a large bucket of hot soapy water, a cloth and his wand on the floor and was attempting to remove the dirt and grime which was encrusted on the floor of the pub. He looked up at Aberforth in surprise, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. _

'_Uh-I'm cleaning.'_

'_What're you doin' tha' for?' inquired Aberforth, the look of shock still on his face. _

'_Just doing my bit' He'd said brightly, grinning at Aberforth briefly, then rolling his trouser legs up and proceeding to first scrape the dirt off, then spill the hot foaming water on the floor. He had then slid all around on the balls of his feet, clearly enjoying himself, while Aberforth stood in the same spot, watching him with a look of bewilderment and mild amusement on his face. _

_The pub was gleaming now, Io had spent the past two weeks scrubbing, dusting, washing and cooking, grateful for the work, which was strangely relaxing. In the evenings, before customers filed in for evening drinks, they ate dinner in the back room where Aberforth lived. _

_Even before Io had cleaned the place, this room was always kept reasonably clean, warm and generously lit. A threadbare hearthrug hung below a portrait of a sweet, naive looking girl, who smiled out at the room with a kind, vacant smile. She couldn't have been more than eight years old. Whenever they sat there, the girl would only smile in Io's direction and any attempt that Io made in engaging Aberforth in conversation about the identity of the girl were silenced with pointed looks and guttural clearings of the throat. It carried on like this for the majority of the first week Io spent there. Until the third day the second week he'd been staying there. _

_The pub had stayed open until around 1 in the morning. As he'd become used to doing so, Io stayed up to help Aberforth clear out the last stragglers of the night -'Move along now fellas, take a picture, it will ruddy well last longer,' giving further incentive, as he saw fit, to those dunces who didn't move- and clear out. It had taken them another hour to clean the benches, stack the chairs and lock up for the night. Io sank into the bedding laid out for him in the smallest lodging upstairs. He drifted quickly into a dreamless sleep, fully clothed. _

_He was woken up at the crack of dawn by a slender barn owl which was tapping insistently on the dewy window. He wiped his mouth with his soaked sleeve, his mouth was parched. It must have been open all night. He quickly lifted the lock out of place and opened the window. The owl deftly avoided the opening window and hopped inside, sticking out a thin leg. He quickly unfurled the scroll. _

Io

I've heard word that you are staying at the Hog's Head. I do not anticipate your return and have notified the school of your place of lodging. I have attached a sum of money to see you through the year.

Yours,

Ameritius_ Sonorous_

_He didn't recognise the writing, but upon reading the note had realised it was addressed from his father. Io smiled wryly to himself as a bag of coins clinked in his hand. He was surprised that his father had sent him a letter, considering that he had always loathed him and that they hadn't seen each other for almost three years- barring the brief period his brother had brought him back to console the house elf who was apparently 'going round the bend' due to his absence, after which he had promptly thrown him back out onto the street amidst much shouting. What was more astounding was that he had sent him money, when he had been indifferent to his stays with Oliver and his mother for two consecutive years, and had left him to starve over the summer when she'd been placed in St. Mungo's and Oliver had gone to his cousins' in Scotland. He wasn't complaining though, he could use all the help he could get. He also had no trouble heading the warning to not return. The idea of not returning to his house left him indifferent. The only person he'd miss there would be his only friend there, a kind house elf named Hiro. _

_He let the owl in, intending to go ask Aberforth for some owl feed for it. Yawning, he got out of bed gingerly, as he was doused in the cold of the dawn. _

_When he arrived downstairs, Aberforth was already setting out breakfast on the table, the remnants of the fire flickering from the night before. Aberforth gave a lazy flick of his wand and it reignited with remarkable ferocity. The table wasn't laden as Io was accustomed to. They had only toast and some marmalade this morning. Aberforth hunched over the table, laying out their dishes and motioning for Io to sit. _

'_Sorry we don't have much this morning,' he murmured, as he spread some marmalade on his toast, 'I will have to go and get some supplies for us tonight.' Io nodded at him, reaching for some toast and shifting his chair closer to the fire. _

'_Uh, Aberforth, could I come as well?' Io inquired, smiling slightly. _

_He had gone to stock up on supplies for the Hog's Head with Aberforth once before, and he was astounded by the myriad of mouth watering food the shop they went to had in stock. Barnaby Bloomer's Bulk Barn was the place where all the food shop owners bought their supplies. It allowed them to buy more, for a much cheaper price. There were mountains of groceries stocked high to the ceiling. Io walked with Aberforth, ticking off a vast list which Aberforth had compiled. There were chewy caramels, curled cinnamon quills, large bags of flours, shiny bottles of liquors, hard sweets in bright wrappings, milk in gleaming glass bottles the size of tankards, cartons of eggs, and cured meats. As they went to check out, Aberforth grabbed Io's shoulder and motioned him towards the largest array of sweets he had ever seen. It was twice as vast as Honeyduke's, and was giving off a beautifully sweet smell, although it didn't have as many novelty items, a fact about which he wasn't about to complain . Io had been allowed to grab a bag of mixed sweets, which they ate after they had returned home. _

_After they had come back, Io had helped Aberforth make the drinks served at the Hog's Head. He had not realised, but the Butterbeers he'd drank here had all been made by Aberforth, according to the official recipe, and then bottled and served to customers as required. They had laid out large cauldrons, one for each type of drink. Then they had washed their hands thoroughly and changed into spotless white overalls which Aberforth kept especially for this purpose. Io was then instructed to fetch the scales and weigh out all the ingredients according to the recipe. He had never been good at potions, with the finicky measuring and painstaking attention to detail, but he thoroughly enjoyed brewing the thick, glimmering liquids giving off delicious smells. After they'd finished, they had bottled the drinks, and sealed them hermetically, using a surprisingly simple spell, to ensure they had a long shelf life. Io had then been allowed a small sample of each drink, including even Firewhiskey, which viciously burnt his throat and left his eyes watering. _

_The sampling of all the drinks had left him a tiny bit woozy, and to his immense mortification, he had felt his eyes tearing up as he sat around laughing with Aberforth. The wizard had gazed silently at the boy, whose eyes were streaming more profusely by the second, without saying a word. Io heard his voice shaking as words left his mouth without his permission. In a few minutes, the details of everything that had happened to him in the past few weeks, and the letter he'd received today, had escaped him in a torrent. Aberforth sat there calmly, looking supremely unsurprised._

'_Could I...Uh-Could I stay with you the next holidays? I have nowhere else to go,' muttered Io, rubbing his now, thankfully dry, eyes on his sleeve. _

_Aberforth crouched down so that his face was on the same level as the boy's. His face was stretched in a saddened smile. _

'_Gormless as your folks are boy, this may be hard to believe,' he growled, sitting cross legged opposite Io, 'we're not all like that. Did you really think I would let you back out on the street after I found you scavenging out of that muggle's rubbish bin? You're welcome to stay here as long as you need to, and I'll do my best to rustle up some extra money to help you with your school things if you need it.' _

'_Thanks,' he'd muttered quietly after a long while. _

'_Don't mention it boyo,' Aberforth had replied gruffly, but his clear eyes were crinkled in a kind smile. _

_They had sat there while the room gradually darkened as the remains of the day departed. When Io could barely distinguish the figure sitting in front of him, he had stood and lit all the lights. Aberforth had also gotten up and started a fire below the stove. Io was relieved that he did not bring up the conversation they'd just had, instead humming good humouredly as they went about making dinner._

_Io went about cleaning out the chicken carcass as Aberforth plopped several different chopped vegetables into a simmering broth he'd made. When Io had finished cleaning the chicken, he divided it into small portions and added it to the broth in the cauldron. He had then sat in the threadbare arm chair which lay directly below the portrait of the young girl. Aberforth joined him after he'd adjusted the fire under the cauldron. He gazed at the portrait of the girl forlornly for some minutes before turning to Io._

'_I suppose I never introduced you two,' he said smiling as the girl in the portrait gave one of her customary vacant smiles. 'Ariana, this is Io he'll be staying here with us when he's not at Hogwarts. Io this is Ariana, my... little sister.' Io smiled at the sweet looking girl who had placed her hand on the portrait in front of her. Unsure as to what to do, he reached his hand up and placed it on hers. He couldn't bring himself to voice the question in his head. _Why did he only have a portrait of his sister, if Io knew for a fact that he talked to her every night? _He turned his head to the wizard he'd been living with for close to two weeks, ashamed he'd never cared to wonder before. _

_Aberforth turned his head sadly from the portrait and looked straight at Io. _

'_I suppose you're wondering why she's not here in the flesh,' he murmured forlornly, cleaning out his left ear with a pinkie, as if for something to do. Io only nodded, a lump had risen in his throat. 'She died when I was your age.' Fixing him with a penetrating gaze he continued, 'you never wondered why normal people avoid my pub, why I charmed goats, what,' here he paused and heaved a great sigh, 'landed my father in Azkaban?'_

'_I-I never knew why any of that happened, so I figured it wasn't my business to ask' He said quietly. This was true, although he'd heard the tones of disdain people adopted when they spoke of Aberforth Dumbledore, he didn't know the reasons for it, nor did he care for them. Aberforth didn't seem to be thinking along the same lines as him, so he added fiercely, 'I doesn't matter what people say anyway, they don't know what actually happened, so they have no right to judge you.' Aberforth gazed at him unfathomably for a minute, then his face cracked into a small smile._

'_I haven't met anyone like you boy, no one's stepped foot in here to talk to me for four decades, not even my own brother.' _

'_Then he's not much of a brother,' snarled Io bitterly, 'there's nothing wrong with you, everyone makes mistakes, you deserve a second chance.' _

'_Perhaps,' muttered Aberforth, letting out a harsh chuckle, 'people tend to be less forgiving if you break the nose of the most important upcoming wizard at your sister's funeral though.' Io couldn't say anything to this, he was aware that his mouth was hanging slightly open, but couldn't tear his gaze from Aberforth. The old wizard heaved a great sigh, his face crumpling up pitifully. He buried his face in his hands for a while, and then stretched in his chair, determinedly not looking at him. _

'_What happened to your sister then, were you really close?' Io murmured quietly, leaning forward in his chair. _

'_How could you not be?' Aberforth muttered, wringing his hands, 'she was the sweetest little kid around, everyone loved her. She liked me the best though, when she got...distressed, I would be the only one who could calm her down.' His eyes were glazed over, and a smile devoid of any bitterness stretched across his face, he looked years younger and carefree. 'Albus was always busy being brilliant, but he tried to have time for her. Our mother was always...bitter, and towards the end, she got very ill. Our father was in Azkaban so he couldn't do much.' Aberforth swivelled his head towards Io again, looking straight at him. 'My father was sent to Azkaban for attacking three muggle boys, you know that.' It was a statement, not a question. Io nodded quickly. 'One day, when she was six, Ariana was out in the back garden, she was just discovering her powers, and she...' Aberforth took a great shuddering breath, his eyes tearing, he took a large sniff and continued, 'she was just playing around I suppose. Anyway, these muggles saw her, and they...they got scared, I imagine. They tried to make her do it again, and when she couldn't, they got angry, and attacked her. She was never the same after, she couldn't control her magic. It would sometimes burst out of her without her meaning to. She didn't mean to be, but she was a danger to herself, and sometimes others. ' Aberforth held Io's gazed and repeated hoarsely, desperate for him to believe him, '...she didn't mean to.' _

'_Of course she didn't Abe, she's just a kid.' Io said, gazing at Aberforth, incensed by what he was hearing. How vicious would an attack have to be to render a child so unstable? He shuddered as he gazed at Ariana's sweet unsuspecting face. He shuffled onto the edge of his seat, 'What did your family do after that?' _

'_My parents were distraught, I couldn't believe it myself when I saw her, she couldn't even speak anymore...My father found the three boys and attacked them the next day, on their way back from school. He came back after, told us what had happened, and just sat down calmly in the sitting room and waited for the misuse of magic folks to come and take him away. He told us to move to a wizard town and hide Ariana so that she isn't carted off to St. Mungo's. They took him away, and I heard he died a year later; they buried his body in Azkaban.' Aberforth heaved a great sigh and turned his head as a tear trickled down his face. A flutter of movement caught his eye; he gazed at Io, who had reached out a hand as if to grasp his shoulder, but then retracted it as though he thought better of it. He was spared having to look further at the boy, who looked thoroughly downtrodden at his tale and was regarding him with a mixture of sorrow and pity on his face, when the cauldron over the fire started giving off a loud squeak through the lid he'd placed over it._

'_Dinner's ready,' he said simply, looking above the boy's head. Io followed him to the table and muttered a quiet 'thank you' as Aberforth ladled chicken stew into his bowl. He reached for a chunk of bead from in front of him. That night, they ate in a silence punctuated only by the tinkling of glasses as they were placed back onto the table, that of spoons as they hit the edges of their plates and the sound of people milling back in to Hogsmeade, ready for a night of merriness. When they'd finished, Io gathered their plates and washed their dishes in silence. _

_As was customary, Io unlocked the doors of the pub, arranged the chairs stacked on the tables around them, laid out glasses, and stood ready for customers behind the bar. Aberforth entered the room and silently handed him a crate full of the bottles which they'd filled themselves, motioning for him to unpack them. It was a long night, especially without the usual cheerful banter present behind the bar. _

_When finally the last customer had been seen out the door, Io commenced clearing and wiping tables, stacking chairs and then mopping the floor. Aberforth had finished wiping down the bench top and returning all the cleaned glasses to the shelves below the bench top, but waited for Io to finish, then followed him through the door to the back room and locked it. _

_Aberforth sank into the armchair and opened a Firewhiskey with his teeth. He handed Io a butterbeer as he sat down on the armchair next to him, as they had been before. Io had engaged Aberforth in a light conversation, allowing him a chance to refuse, recalling how Aberforth had let him get over his embarrassment at having had such a pronounced breakdown earlier. Aberforth awoke a while later, having not realised they'd fallen asleep where they sat. He put the glasses away and put a spare blanket from under the kitchen sink over the boy now snoring uproariously. As he put out the lights to the living room, Io half raised his head, clearly still asleep, and looked at him. _

'_I don't blame you Aberforth,' he said thickly, 'I'd be charming goats too if that happened to me.'_


	7. Chapter 7

'I want to stay with you until the rest of the holidays, if that's alright,' said Io ginning widely at the wizard who was now engrossed in compiling a list of ingredients that were missing from the pub. Aberforth looked up from his list and smiled. 'I'll just have to write to them and tell them.'

'Alright,' Aberforth rummaged in his pockets, found his keys, and then tossed them to Io. 'I'll stay down here, but after we'll go get supplies and might as well get your school things, the list arrived this morning.' Io hurried up the stairs, found the key to open the back door and entered the sitting room. His school book list was pinned to the wall above the fire place.

'Hi Ariana,' He greeted Ariana with a quick smile and wave as he passed her. She beamed back at him and returned his wave. He went up another flight of stairs to his room, which was with the other lodgings. The window had been opened slightly and the lace curtains fluttered violently as they were buffeted by successive gusts of wind. Io whistled for his tawny owl to come down from on top of the wardrobe, where it had been in a light slumber, and stroked its head. He pulled out some parchment and a quill from his trunk. Using the inkwell Aberforth had set out for him on the desk, he started writing. He wrote two separate letters, one for Morph and one for Morph's mother.

The first one read:

Morph:

I'll be staying for the rest of the holidays at the Hog's Head. I'll see you guys on the Hogwarts Express, Abe's taking me to the station (he says I'll go by side-along apparition). I'll tell you what it's like after. Anyway tell Ollie I say hi :) (And you should to come visit when you go to get your books and things!)

Io

The second one read:

Dear Mrs. Slackly:

Thanks for inviting me to stay. I've decided to stay at the Hog's Head till the rest of the holidays, but thank you for inviting me. Hope you enjoy the rest of the holidays.

Yours,

Io

Io waited till the ink had dried and rolled them, and then attached them to Norberta's leg.

'Deliver these two to Morph's house.' He gave her an owl nut before she left, then closed the window and hurried downstairs. He locked the door behind him and tossed the keys back to Aberforth, who was securing a travelling cloak around his shoulders.

'Get a jacket will you,' he motioned towards the cloak room, the weather is horrible out there.'

Io grabbed a jacket and bundled it around himself as they headed off once more for Barnaby Bloomer's Bulk Barn. Io had taken three steps onto the Muggle Street outside of the Three Broomsticks, when Aberforth grabbed him by the upper arm and pulled him back into a corner were no muggles could see them.

'Alright,' he murmured, 'grab my arm tight, and we'll apparate there, weather's horrible.' He caught sight of Io's face and added, 'The sensation takes some getting used to, but you'll be alright after a few moments.' Io nodded nervously and grabbed tightly onto Aberforth's arm. Aberforth looked down briefly at him with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Then it happened.

It felt like he was being squeezed tightly from all directions, his skull felt like it was shrinking and he was scared his eyes would pop out. His chest was too tight to breathe and a wave of panic washed over him. How long would this last? Just as this thought occurred to him, he felt his feet hit solid ground and his lungs expand. He took in hungry gulpfuls of air, feeling a pressure on his eyes despite their arrival. Aberforth stood silently by him until his breathing returned to normal, and then they set off. Io was irately rubbing his temple.

'That was the worst feeling ever,' he muttered darkly, 'I think I'll just stay with you in Hogsmeade then go to Hogwarts when everyone else arrives. I'm not doing that again till I have to.' Aberforth chuckled lightly, pocketing his wand.

'As you wish, but believe me, you get used to it.' Io couldn't see how you could get used to that, it was like he was being forced through a tube that was ten times too small for him. They entered the shop, which was beautifully warm after the chill outside. Io once again noticed that muggles seemed completely unaware of this place, their eyes just glided over it as though it were not there.

They walked much more quickly through the shop now, as Io had already seen it and did not pause to stare at every minor detail he saw. They got most of their shopping done in around ten minutes, after which Aberforth stood to scrutinise a row of biscuits. After he'd picked a packet, they went to the vast array of sweets again, and picked a mixed bag. There was a strange new sweet which was in the shape of a pink and white mouse, which gave off high pitched squeaks. They placed one for each of them in the bag, paid the shopkeeper, and stepped back into the gloom. Io had been wishing in vain that the weather would clear up and they'd be able to walk back, but it was as blustery and bitingly cold as it had been when they'd arrived. Aberforth had noticed his gloom.

'We'll apparate home, just this once, and then you can decide whether you want to apparate to King's Cross later.' Io nodded and grimly held onto Aberforth's arm, dreading the next few seconds.

When it happened again, he was more prepared, but it was still extremely uncomfortable, and as he doubled over trying to steady his breathing, Aberforth stood over him fumbling with his keys. After that, they unlocked the pub and went down to the cellar to put away the supplies. It was a vast room with smaller rooms of different temperatures in it. They stacked all of the foods which could go bad quickly in a room which Aberforth had placed under a cooling charm, and all the other things were stacked in neat piles or on shelves in the rest of the room.

A few customers came in for lunch and Io helped Aberforth serve them food. Most ordered fry-ups but a wizard sitting at a table close to the entrance ordered pickled salamander tails and Firewhiskey. Io returned to the counter, bewildered, and was shocked when Aberforth returned with a plate of what certainly looked like salamander tails. Fighting back a wave of nausea, he handed the wizard's food to him with a faltering smile.

After most of the customer's had left, Io went upstairs, while Aberforth stayed downstairs to tend to the customers. Io went about changing the sheets of each room, sweeping, dusting and doing a general cleaning of each as required. He wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school, and although the Ministry would not be able to tell if he was using magic, as he lived with a wizard, Aberforth had explicitly forbidden him to use it. Io remembered he'd said something about it being 'character building'. By the time he had returned downstairs, holding a large basket of sheets to his chest, Aberforth was already in the sitting room, preparing dinner. Aberforth promptly took the baskets out of his hands and unceremoniously tipped the contents into a heap on the floor. He then muttered 'scourgify' and bubbles erupted on the sheets, leaving them spotless. Then with another flick of his wand, they folded themselves and raced into the cupboard under the stairs. He promptly used a spell to vanish the basket Io had been holding and then returned to the cauldron on the stove.

'I'll just work on dinner for a bit now, so that we don't have to wait too long for it after we get back. I expect it'll take a while.' Io nodded, as he chewed on a liquorice wand from the bag of sweets on the table. He motioned half-heartedly at the cauldron.

'Need any help?'

'Nah, it's alright, it takes me much less time to do everything if we don't have to do it the muggle way.' He said smirking, although adding seriously 'And I won't let you use magic to chop onions before you are of age. I did it once and almost lost my right hand.'

Once Aberforth had left the cauldron to simmer, he stuck his head out the door overlooking the pub. He waved his wand around and the chairs placed themselves over the tables, which had just wiped themselves down, the dishes stacked themselves in the sink and the mop got busy cleaning the floor. The already dark windows' curtains were drawn and they heard the front door's locks close with a click. Io followed Aberforth to a door leading to the back of the house.

'Why don't you always just do that?' Io cried, astounded at how quickly he had done what took him at least twenty minutes usually. Aberforth chuckled looking amused.

'I told you, its character building,' he murmured grinning, 'besides; I'm usually doing something else right?'

'We're off now Ari, we're just getting some supplies' He placed a hand on the canvas, which Ariana raised her hand to with a serene smile.

They exited out of the back door, which came out in the midst of a small, well-tended garden housing different herbs, creepers and vegetables. A small path of smooth edged, white stones led around in a curve, so that they exited out the side of the pub.

The sky was already darkening as they came out of Flourish and Blott's, weighed down by the immense stack of books that compromised the 5th year book list. Io used the money he had been sent. They ducked quickly into the apothecary as a vicious torrent of rain engulfed what had been, mere minutes ago, a still albeit humid afternoon. Aberforth bargained with the mild-natured shopkeeper Molly, to get their prices down. When they emerged, half an hour later, Io having been unable to find asphodel root, the rain had let up, a thin smattering lazily sprinkling them as they forayed into Eyelop's in search of owl food.

They reached Aesop's, the Quidditch supplies shop. Io quickly grabbed broom wax, bandages and chaser gloves, paid, then hurried out.

Upon passing Honeyduke's with a pained expression, then doubling back and grinning, Io walked inside, Aberforth following with a grin. The inside smelt _amazing_.

'You want anything Aberforth?' Called Io, his nose pressed up against the glass behind which were arranged the most tantalising of treats, sugar quills, pumpkin pasties, chocolate cauldrons, jellied gerbils, inky dinks, nitwits, acid pops, sleepy susans, edible parchment, magic mushrooms and more.

'Yeah, can you get me some farty martys?' He called with a grin, tossing some coins at Io, which he deftly caught, his nose still pressed against the glass. Aberforth sat down, a sugar quill clenched between his teeth and a small bag of sweets clenched in his hand.

They left the bags of sweets they'd bought for another day, having only sampled each type, as Aberforth had said they had to make room for dinner. As night began to fall, they wished the cheery witch goodnight. When they strode back through the now deserted Hogsmeade, their breath frosted in front of them, rising in strange, wispy shapes.

When they returned to the sitting room, the cauldron which had been simmering on the fire suddenly gave a squeak, at which point Aberforth lazily flicked his wand. The stew ladled itself into bowls, then descended upon of them, an accompanying spoon following suit. They wolfed down the stew in silence. Io demanded seconds from Aberforth, who was still eating, just to wind him up. Putting his bowl down, and putting on a long suffering face amidst a stream of muttering featuring many repetitions of 'pig' and 'eat slower', he refilled his bowl and plonked himself back down onto the seat.

Half an hour later they were still sitting there, suffering of the pleasant lethargy which followed a hearty meal, the warmth of the room and the smattering of rain against the roof not helping to rouse them of their comatose state. Io raised himself reluctantly when the clock struck seven, and they started setting up for the night to come. Thankfully, it was a quiet night, so they were able to pack up and go to sleep at eleven. Io bade Aberforth and Ariana goodnight and went upstairs to his room, falling into a deep uninterrupted sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

The last day of the holidays dawned in a watery sunshine which hung over the village of Hogsmeade, bathing it in a bright, blue hued light. Io's eyes burned from the surprising brightness peeking through the laden clouds. He turned over and pondered the day ahead. He'd decided yesterday while sitting in front of the roaring fire with Aberforth that he would simply walk to the Hogsmeade station when the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station, then ride in the carriages up to the castle with the others. That left him with ten hours. Since his belongings had all been packed into his trunk the night before, he had nothing else to do. Less than half an hour later, he was striding downstairs to the front of the Hog's Head, as Aberforth served Sunday breakfast to a lone cloaked wizard. The day passed in a blur of serving people, preparing food and cleaning. After what seemed like no time at all, they had locked the pub and he was dragging his trunk towards the Hogsmeade station. As the crowds flooded out of the Hogwarts Express to arrive, Aberforth turned to Io with a small grin on his face and hurried back off into the steadily darkening Hogsmeade.

Io joined the rest of the school into the carriages, following a group of third year Hufflepuffs into one. His face cracked broadly as he remembered what Aberforth had told him. _'If you want to visit during school, go to the seventh floor. Walk by the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy three times, and think really hard 'I need a place to hide'. Once inside all you have to do is think; 'I need to find some food, and a door will appear on the wall leading you back here.'_ Apparently that had been how he had discovered the Hog's Head, while he was at school. He'd been hiding from a group that was chasing him and had then gotten hungry while staying there. Io gave a light chuckle at the thought, and noticed the three Hufflepuffs sharing the carriage with him surreptitiously shrink away from.

Once the carriages reached Hogwarts, left his trunk outside the hall, and it vanished. He knew it had been sent to his dorm high above him in the western tower of the school. Io turned on his heel and strode towards the table sandwiched between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, and looked for Morph and Oliver. It didn't seem that they were there yet, so Io sat down next to two fourth year girls whom he vaguely knew, talking animatedly, and waited for his friends to arrive. When Morph and Oliver had entered, the sorting was just about to get underway, and so they only had time for a brief wave before McGonagall put down the stool she was carrying and read out from a list of names.

Io didn't pay much attention to the sorting. It surprised him that the school still carried on the tradition of sorting students into Houses when it had caused rifts within Hogwarts soon after its establishment. He was also amazed that Slytherin was still a legitimate house considering that the rise of the wizard styling himself as Lord Voldemort -and his supporters- had lead to the death of many innocent people, when Salazar Slytherin himself had introduced the ideal of a _purified_ wizarding race.

After the sorting, Professor Dumbledore stood up, to welcome them back, his eyes twinkling. Io could not believe that the kind old wizard in front of them had not talked to his estranged brother for four decades. Aberforth had not elaborated on why he'd broken his brother's nose, but as Io looked closer, he could definitely see the tell tale sign that it had been previously broken. He dazedly wondered what would've lead Aberforth to break his brother's nose, at his sister's funeral of all places.

'Welcome,' he started, his rich voice booming through the hall, 'to another year at Hogwarts! I have but a few messages; First years are to be warned that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds. Those wishing to be part of their House's Quidditch team should give their name to their Heads of House. Now, without further ado,' he smiled, 'let the feast begin!'

Seemingly at the wave of his wand, plates piled with mouth-watering food appeared on the tables; he was convinced that he heard the tables creaking under the sheer weight. Each of them grabbed a plate and piled it high with food. Morph swivelled on his chair, trying to catch the attention of the boy who was gazing with interest at the Headmaster who was helping himself to potatoes. After clicking his finger's right in front of his face, Io started, turning to him.

'What...?'

'I was saying, why weren't you on the train? We waited for you till it had almost left, but then we had to board.' Io's eyes widened, his mouth forming a large O.

'Oh, I forgot!' He had intended to write Morph a letter telling him how awful apparition was, and that he was going to simply walk to Hogsmead station, to avoid the unpleasantness of the experience, but had forgotten. 'Apparition feels so horrible, I didn't want to apparate to King's Cross, so I just walked to Hogsmeade station and boarded the carriages. Sorry.' After a nod from Morph, he had launched into an account of how horrible it felt to apparate-

'-like being shoved head first into a narrow tube,' he gave a shudder and reached for another chicken leg, but as he did so, the whole table's contents were simultaneously substituted with the most sumptuous puddings, desserts and cakes he'd seen. Shrugging nonchalantly, he reached for a tartlet filled with summer berries, custard and a bunch of gapes. Morph had then gone on to fill him in on the happenings of his holidays. It sounded fun, and when Morph was narrating the happenings to him, Io wished he'd been there. This feeling didn't last too long however. Morph was his closest friend and everything, but his mum was a formidable woman, and Io felt as if he was walking a narrow tightrope made of eggshells when he was in her presence.

By the time the pudding had disappeared and Dumbledore had bid them goodnight, they were full and sleepy. Oliver who had been sitting further up the table had to run up ahead with Allinda, gathering the first year Ravenclaws and leading them up the long ascent to Ravenclaw tower. Once there, Oliver and Allinda would have to explain the concept behind the most interesting entry admission process in the castle. Whereas all the three other houses had passwords, Ravenclaw had riddles, which you had to solve to get through. Glad to be able to dawdle, Io waved cheerfully as Oliver turned round, giving him a small smile as he passed the doors to the great hall.

As he walked out of the doors, Morph hurried off in pursuit of Professor Vector, who taught Arithmancy, to ask him about the text book assigned to them this year. Morph had been unable to find it, and apparently, so had the others. Grinning as he found another reason he was glad to not have picked the subject, which sounded incredibly dull, he hurried up the stairs. Halfway up the way he was barred by a boy who was a head shorter than him, with sleek black hair and chilling grey eyes. Io stopped, looking at him steadily. Regulus Black was another one of the many pure bloods to which he was related through his mother, unwilling though he was to admit it. Although they had not talked, he was the only Slytherin to acknowledge him politely when they faced off before a Quidditch match.

'Is something wrong?' Io muttered, keeping his voice even. Regulus merely looked at him squarely for a while.

'I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay at the Hog's Head,' he murmured quietly. As Io made to give a response, Regulus raised his finger and hurried on, 'Your parents seem displeased at your choice of lodging, you would do well to go back and apologise to them and return home, or else they might not welcome you back.' Before Io had a chance to give a response to that, he had turned promptly on his heel and left him gazing at his retreating back. He didn't expect any different from his cousin, who was dutiful to his parents and religiously subscribed to their notions of pureblood superiority, although he had always thought it strange that he bought into that. He was, however, annoyed that news of his ceremonious expulsion from his house had travelled this far, but he supposed he should've expected it –all the purebloods were related quite closely by blood, so news tended to travel quickly amongst them. He didn't know why Regulus had even bothered, he hadn't stepped foot in his house for almost three years, this was also a well known fact.

That anyone could be under the impression he would want to go back was completely beyond his understanding.

The crowds had all disappeared as he'd been standing there, rooted to the spot pondering what Regulus had said to him, and as he stifled a yawn he let his feet lead him up the long staircase to the West tower.


	9. Chapter 9

The tinkly voice that rang out was ready with a question when he'd arrived there.

'Space or time,' it asked cryptically. Io scratched his head for a minute, and then decided to speak.

'Neither... and both, without one there cannot be the other so... you could say they're different faces of the same coin.'

'Nicely phrased, but beware of letting that coin make a fool of you,' she said, in the same tinkly voice, as she admitted him.

He entered the perfectly circular room, with beautiful vaulted windows and a high, domed ceiling, littered with stars. It was the largest common room by far, he knew, as he had entered all four on separate occasions. The statue of Rowena Ravenclaw was an eerie sight in the dying light of the last embers in the fire and the beautiful drapes of blue and bronze across the ceiling fluttered in the breeze let in by a window that had been left open. The windows to his side gave a view of the mountains beyond Hogwarts, and the sea beyond that, a shimmering carpet of black in the moonless night. Ravenclaw tower was by far the best, even though there may be some bias, but the others are small and gloomy he reasoned to himself, chuckling inwardly.

He strode over to the staircase leading to the boys' dormitories, he promptly went to the showers at the end of the hall, feeling his muscles uncoil as the hot water drummed a soothing rhythm on his back and the steam billowed about his face. He smiled, knowing that at Hogwarts, the hot water didn't suddenly go cold after a while, as it did in the Hog's Head when he dawdled too long in the back room's shower. When he'd come out, he jumped quickly into bed, the trapped cocoon of steam keeping him warm as he dozed off.

The light that streamed in through the windows was blinding in its intensity. And as Io woke up slowly, sluggishly, he had the horrible realisation that the sun wasn't usually this high in the sky when he was meant to wake up. Sure enough, when he woke fully, his heart pounding heavily, it was to a completely deserted dorm, common room and corridor outside. He ran, hoping to hell that class hadn't started. When he reached the great hall, there were still people walking in. Thanking his lucky stars, he walked in groggily and slightly grumpily despite his luck. He sat down and started spooning cereal into his mouth. He looked up and down the table for Flitwick- if he'd missed him giving out timetables, he'd have to go find him before class started again.

Thankfully Flitwick arrived behind him a few minutes later, handed him a timetable, and went about explaining few minor issues. Io was thrilled to see he had two 'study periods' in a row right now. Wolfing his food down quicker, he waved as Flitwick went off in search of other Ravenclaws. Maybe today _was_ a good day after all.

Two hours later, Io was lined up outside Professor McGonagall's classroom; he stood behind a group of Gryffindors. Flitwick had explained that he would be the only Ravenclaw in his Transfiguration, Potions and Charms classes, as Muggle studies had played havoc with his timetable for the second year in a row. A quiet brown haired boy stepped behind him and as he turned around he smiled. The boy raised his hand in welcome also, smiling at Io as he came closer. Remus Lupin was a Gryffindor with whom Io had developed a close friendship in his third year, owing to the fact that he'd been the only Ravenclaw in his classes as since then, due to his decision to take up Muggle studies. Io noticed that Remus had a crimson badge pinned to his robes, a crimson badge emblazoned with a golden P.

'You've been made a prefect Remus!' exclaimed Io, clapping him on the arm.

Remus scratched his wavy hair with a small smile, adding pleasantly 'Yes, it surprised me too,' he muttered, 'now I have to keep up with everyone playing havoc around the common room. It's the first day and requests to reel James and Sirius in have been running me off my feet' although this would usually be classed as a complaint, Remus had said this agreeably, as he always did, his eyes crinkling. McGonagall opened the door to her classroom and they all filed in, Io sitting next to Remus at a table in the middle.

'Welcome back,' she enunciated, in her measured, dignified voice, 'to Transfiguration. This year, as I hope you are all aware, is your OWL year. We will be working on furthering your skills in the area, moving further than elemental transfiguration as we eventually transfigure living organisms.'

She paused as an audible gasp sounded from a few students. Nodding at them imperiously, she continued, 'As we will be dealing with living organisms, I expect you will display the utmost respect for your surroundings, and the subject in which you will be learning it. I trust you will live up to my expectations.'

Of course, no one would ever think to entertain the notion of crossing the sword of discipline in Hogwarts that was McGonagall. Not to say that she was stiff or mean, in fact, McGonagall was to her students, always helpful and supportive, and he could assert that everyone in this room respected her greatly. This was evident in the class's almost reverent expressions, and their hushed silence.

After quite a lengthy speech outlining the course for the year, the importance of OWLs on their future magical careers and the workload expected of them. 'Of course, if any of you find yourselves struggling with this workload,' she gazed around the room, her demeanour amenable, 'I expect that you will discuss this with me. Now,' she spoke, small cups appearing in front of each student at a flick of her wand, 'turn to page 21 of your textbooks, the section about simple animal transfigurations of innate objects.'

They were meant to be making legs appear on their teacups, a feat they hadn't attempted ever before. Transfiguring innate objects to grant them living appendages seemed quite complicated, and sure enough, at the end of the hour, only a handful of people had managed to make their cups sprout legs. Remus' cup had sprouted spindly legs which couldn't support his cup, while Io's had sprouted only a small amount of fur where the legs should have appeared.

As they started to pack up, McGonagall bade them goodbye, setting them an assignment to practice the spell in their spare time. Io and Remus hurried off to History of Magic, which they also had together. They had to hurry as it was on the other side of the castle, and when they arrived in class, Professor Binns had already started covering, in his droning voice, the goblin riots of 1778.

He strode past a table of Ravenclaws whom he greeted mutedly, having not seen them last night or this morning. Professor Binns seemed unaware as ever that most of his class was already spacing out. Io leant his face heavily into his hand, and started doodling strange looping shapes on his parchment. Next to him however, Remus was writing notes, looking with interest at Binns as he strode back and forth his shoes giving a strange squeak every time he turned on his heel. After a mind numbingly dull lesson, Remus made his way to ancient Runes, and Io made his way down to the school grounds, eager for his first Care of magical creatures lesson. As he passed the Herbology green houses, a small royal blue paper plane hovered next to his ear. Recognising the Ravenclaw team captain's messages, he opened it.

Hey Io,

Hope you had a good holiday. You are (of course) on the team again. We're 3 members short though, so I want all those from last year's team to come to try-outs sometime this week. I want to see how the new players work with everyone.

Dirk

Io hurriedly pocketed the parchment, which was now completely flat, with not a hint of a crease, and dropped his bag on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A regal black woman with long black dreads, wearing tough brown boots and dragon hide gloves on top of her robes stood waiting in a small clearing. Kahina, whose name served as both a last name and first name, taught one of Io's favourite subjects at Hogwarts, Care of Magical creatures. She put special emphasis on their understanding of the beasts, and unlike most text books, highlighted their temperaments, and how one could form a lasting bond to each. Although her arms were criss-crossed with scars, they had never yet witnessed a beast going out of hand in her presence. She smiled briefly at each of them in turn, and then strode into the forest, motioning for them to follow.

'I will not elaborate on the importance of your OWLs. I am sure their importance has been asserted to you today, and will be repeated tomorrow.' She murmured over her shoulder, parting the dense vegetation for them so they could make their way through. 'Today we will be surveying Hippogriffs. Now,' she turned to them, 'I have come to expect each of you to treat the creatures we encounter in this class with the respect they deserve. I expect no less today. Hippogriffs are proud creatures, and are offended easily. I would not recommend disrespecting them, are we clear?' When they'd nodded she led them deeper into the forest. As they strode further into the forest, the bushes to their right parted and a centaur appeared. Kahina raised a hand in the air in silent greeting, and led them further. After a while they came across a small clearing which had been fenced off. In the middle of the clearing were five Hippogriffs.

They were one of the most beautiful, yet fearsome looking beasts he had ever seen. They had the front legs, head and wings of a giant eagle. This part of their body was covered with sleek, steel coloured feathers. Their hind body looked very much like that of a horse. The talons on their front legs were almost a foot long and looked viciously sharp. Their eyes were a brilliant orange and held a fair aliquot of pride in them. The class turned to Kahina, it seemed they had all heeded he warning, and were waiting with bated breath to see how they could approach them.

Kahina placed her bag tentatively on the ground at their feet, and then addressed them calmly.

'As you can see, they are magnificent, but obviously, they can be very fearsome if they want to be. I will now demonstrate how you gain the trust and friendship of a Hippogriff.'

She took two steps in the direction of the nearest Hippogriff, which fixed her with one orange eye, swivelling its head inquisitively at her. Kahina then bowed at the Hippogriff, keeping her head down until it crossed its two front legs over, and bowed its head, returning the bow. Kahina then strode over to it and stroked its crown. She then bowed again and returned to the class.

'That's the way to do it; Stay bowed until the Hippogriff bows back to you. Do not raise your head until then. Maintain eye contact and try not to blink, Hippogriffs mistrust you if you blink too much.'

They split into pairs and Kahina walked amongst them, commentating lightly as they attempted to gain the trust of the Hippogriffs. After the whole class had gained their trust, they sat by the Hippogriffs and went about drawing a simplified diagram of a Hippogriff and labelling the body parts. Kahina sat beside one Hippogriff and pointed out key structures on it, and gave a brief overview of the temperament, diet, husbandry and social structure in wild Hippogriff herds. At the end of the lesson, they waited briefly while Kahina unlocked the fences to the clearing, letting the Hippogriffs out. They then followed her as they made their way out of the Forest. At the edge of the forest she instructed them to read the pages in their textbook describing Hippogriffs and told them they would reconvene in the same spot next lesson.


	10. Chapter 10

Io threw his bag over his shoulder, he had immensely enjoyed it, but it had been a tiring day. He set off quickly for lunch, after which he would have his first Muggle Studies class for the year. He hurriedly swallowed down scrambled eggs and toast, and then scurried off to Muggle Studies. On the way up the stairs to the classroom on the third floor, he ran into Arthur Weasley. Arthur was a lanky Gryffindor with flaming orange hair, which he cropped quite short. His face was mud splattered and he was still wearing his protective dragon hide gloves, evidently, he'd just returned from Herbology, but he was smiling broadly at Io.

'Had a good holiday Io?' He inquired brightly, waving a mud splattered hand.

'Been alright, how was yours?'

'Good, good, I visited a fireleg's museum in the holidays,' seeing Io's look of confusion he nodded sagely and added, 'firelegs, they're a metal wand that muggles use to kill each other, fascinating stuff.' His eyes were bright as he explained the workings to Io, who was, admittedly, impressed, despite the goriness of their intended use. '-spring mechanism see, it thrusts the metal bit- a bullet - forward, then bob's your uncle.'

When they filed into Muggle studies, a cheery looking man in sleek black robes was sitting behind a polished black desk; he had mousy coloured curly hair and stubble and was engrossed in reading an immense turquoise leather bound book. When he looked up and saw them waiting outside, he smiled broadly and beckoned them inside. They sat on the comfortable chairs in front of his desk. He cheerily asked them about their holidays while they waited for the others to arrive. When Arthur mentioned his trip to the museum, Professor Callaghan smiled brightly, gently correcting Arthur 'fire_arms_, not legs Arthur,' with a chuckle. When everyone had arrived, he nodded for quiet, and then addressed them in his lilting Irish accent.

'Welcome back to Muggle studies. OWLs, as you must have heard by now, are quite important. Due to their importance, I will push on with the syllabus, unless anyone has any specific questions regarding OWLs.' He gazed at the class for a short while, and then went on. 'We have now studied Muggle past times, occupations, methods of transport and have covered the basics of their political systems- which as you will remember, are very similar to our own. This year we will foray into a more overarching study of Muggle affairs and analyse their effect on magical society. The first section will be muggle political theory.' Io sat up straighter in his seat, this sounded like nothing he had any knowledge of. As always in this class, he was being introduced to a totally novel world. He looked across at Arthur, who looked even more awed than he was, '-of most importance to us are the impacts of Muggle superstitions and introduced rituals on the witch hunts – most notable of which were the Salem witch trials-, the impact of Mahatma Ghandi's notion of peaceful protest on magical communities and the impact of the inauguration of Margaret Thatcher as the first prime minister and its impact on wizarding women's rights in ministry. We will also cover the main great muggle thinkers, which laid the foundation of civilisation. The thinkers studied will be limited to the following, due only to the time constraint, to: Aristotle, Plato, Epicurus, Zeno of Citium, Avicenna (whose actual name was Latinised from Ibn Sina), Thomas Aquinas, René Descartes, Paul of Tarsus, Al Khawarizmi and Confucius. I would recommend further reading on other muggle thinkers, as it is quite an interesting topic. The utter impact of these thinkers on magical theory and political organisation, I cannot _begin _to explain to you. We will be covering thinkers up till the 17th century or so.' Here he paused, looking as though he could tell they needed time to absorb everything he had just said. 'I understand this is a lot,' he murmured with a grin and looked at his watch, 'How about...I'll give you 15 minutes to mull it over and ask questions as you see fit, then I'll carry on with the description of the course.' Many had raised their hands, including Arthur. Io felt as though he was the only one without his hand in the air, but he couldn't think of anything he wanted to ask. Professor Callaghan pointed at a girl sitting behind him, whose hand had shot into the air nervously.

'Uh, Sir...we haven't been set a textbook. How are we meant to find out about all this?' Io hadn't realised this until now and now turned his attention to Professor Callaghan. He could understand why she'd been nervous now, he didn't think he'd be able to write down enough notes during class to cover all that, and that was only the first two sections of the course. Professor Callaghan raised his hands open palmed at the class, and moved them slightly back and forth at them in a steadying gesture. A chattering had broken out when the girl, Vera, had asked her question.

'Thank you Vera. Now, I am fully aware that I did not set a text book. This is simply due to the fact that the syllabus is not covered by one textbook, but requires snippets from a multitude of textbooks. As it would've been sheer insanity to set you all of those textbooks, my plan is to provide you with copies of the relevant pages from the textbooks I have in my study. I will make sure you are provided with enough information to gain an excellent understanding of the topics. If anyone wishes to read further, I am happy to lend them my books.' He finished with a smile, and turned his attention to a boy sitting across the room from Io.

'Will we have any field trips this year Sir?'

'Ah, thank you Brian. As it so happens, I've arranged a trip to the museum of political science in Kent. I believe this will help us understand the work of the great muggle thinkers in a muggle context, which is quite important. But we must all behave as muggles; I do not want any incidents that might require Obliviators. I will try to organise others as time permits, but many safety precautions must be taken in these dark times...'

When they had exhausted all questions, he walked around his desk, and sat on his desktop, scratching his chin.

'Hmmm...where was I?' he murmured quietly, looking slightly lost, 'Ah, yes...As the timeframe we cover in dealing with the great muggle thinkers overlaps with that studied in History of magic. I expect you to pay close attention to Professor. Binns, as much of what he teaches affected, or was affected by, events in muggle history, and therefore, details in his subject are examinable in this one too...and I suspect, a bit of my subject is examinable in History of magic. Now the final, and perhaps most interesting topic, involves an overview of the advances in subjects of study exclusive to muggles. You will all remember what muggles define as science, technology and medicine. We will now go beyond rudimentary definitions and inspect how they have done so without the use of magic.' He paused, a wide grin overtaking his face again, 'it's really quite extraordinary.' The bell rang outside, and Professor Callaghan started, looking at his watch again.

'Oh, well I'm sorry everyone, I'd gotten carried away with the time. That is all from me; enjoy the rest of your day!'

As Io packed up his things, he was certain of one thing, Muggle studies seemed like one of the most interesting subjects this year. He always wondered how muggles could live without magic, and it seemed like he was about to find out. He waited for Arthur to pack his things, and then they strode outside.

'It all sounds amazing doesn't it?' Breathed Arthur, his eyes wide, 'I've always thought the things muggles could do were incredible. The stuff we learn has gotten a _whole_ lot more interesting all of a sudden!'

'I know. I'm really looking forward to it, what do you think we'll learn about the superstitions? Sounds weird...'

'Hmm, yeah, I have no idea to be honest...And what about all those names, they sound like they're foreign...where do you reckon they're from? We know Aristotle and Plato from last year, but who're all the rest?' Io shrugged, he couldn't wait for the next muggle studies lesson, of that he was certain.


	11. Chapter 11

When he reached the top of Ravenclaw tower, he was confronted with the sight of around twenty people standing in front of the knocker, looking infuriated and confused. This was a common occurrence in Ravenclaw, especially when the knocker had its bouts of impenetrable profoundness. A girl with wavy blonde hair pushed through the crowd and knocked the knocker. After a few moments, Rowena Ravenclaw's voice issued, as always. Although this time Io could swear she sounded exasperated. Could the knocker tell it had been knocked many times and that no one had produced an answer?

'Prove to me that you are not a figment of my imagination.'

'What the..' the girl turned to him, and Io recognised the seventh year chaser on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, clearly confused at the knocker's latest bout of insanity. This sharpened their intellect and all, but at times like this he was tempted to ask Flitwick to just give them passwords. Sweeping her blonde hair out of her face, she spoke to the knocker, 'Uh, Rowena, sorry, but could you rephrase your question? I'm afraid I don't understand.'

'Prove to me that you exist,' articulated Ravenclaw. Melody threw her hands in the air with a wry laugh. 'She's all yours, I don't get this one.' Io walked slowly up to the knocker, wracking his brains. How is anyone meant to prove to a knocker, of all things, that they exist? _If he doesn't exist then anything he says wouldn't exist either, would it? _

'Well,' he started, unsure as to how he was going to phrase this, 'any answer we give may also be a figment of your imagination, so there's no way to prove our existence to you. The real question is, I suppose, prove to us that _you're_ not a figment of _our_ imagination.' A long silence followed, during which the twenty something people trapped outside looked intently at the knocker, awaiting any sign of an answer.

'Very well, I can't fault your reasoning,' she spoke in her tinkly voice once more, all hints of exasperation gone, 'you may enter.' They entered, glad that they didn't have to wait any longer. Melody collapsed into one of the armchairs by the far windows and started working on an essay in silence. Io took a chair by the fire and started reading the chapter about Hippogriffs.

The diet of the Hippogriff consists mainly of insects, birds and small mammals such as ferrets. When breeding, Hippogriffs build nests on the ground, and lay only a single, fragile egg. The egg usually hatches in twenty four hours. Infant Hippogriffs are capable of flight within a week, but it takes many months before they are strong enough to accompany their parents on long journeys.

Io packed up his things and made his way to his dorm as watercolours began to streak the steadily darkening sky. As his stomach rumbled, he unceremoniously threw his books into his trunk and made his way back out into the common room. He strode towards Melody, who still looked engrossed in what was fast becoming a three foot long essay.

'Mel, are you gonna come down to dinner? I'm heading there now.' He murmured quietly, trying to disturb her as quietly as possible. She had been twirling her quill furiously, one hand clutching her hair. She looked up at him with a wry smile.

'I'll probably stay here a while longer,' she gave a large huff and glared enviously at a group of first year chattering brightly, 'this is insanity, the amount of work Potions is in NEWT level, and it's only the first day for Barty Baggin's sake!' Io arranged his face into a sympathetic smile, NEWTs sounded like a nightmare. Although thankfully, he would have to get through OWLs and another year, before he was even faced with that hurdle.

As he placed his hand on the door knob, Melody's voice rang out behind him.

'Oi Sonorous!' Io turned, bemused, to the girl now grinning at him, 'save me a seat will ya?' He only managed to nod quickly before he was shunted out by the people behind him. They hadn't been too amused at his decision to turn against the current of people filing out the door.

Io had arrived at the Great Hall slightly early, only a handful of people were seated at the House tables. As he made his way to the Ravenclaw table however, something collided hard with his shoulder, shoving his side into the corner of the table. He spun on his heel, feeling his anger bubble.

'Oi watch it!'

He found himself confronted with Bellatrix Lestrange, another demented soul housed by this castle. She was sneering at him, her tangled black hair seemingly pulsating with glee, as she bounced on the balls of her feet, clearly highly amused at something. He did not care to find out what this comic marvel was. He turned on his heel, but was stopped as she burst out with what she wanted to say, her large mouth contorted in delight.

'So I hear, from Lucius, that my _dear_ cousin has not only been _thrown out_, but has been bunking with the goat charmer _Dumbledore_.' She seemed to be struggling to hold back tears of laughter as she continued, 'so not content to eat out of the trash of muggles, you fancied a bunk in the goat hub of the Northern Hemisphere. DID YOU FANCY YOURSELF _FIDDLING_ WITH GOATS TOO SONOROUS?' This last part she had blurted out so loudly that the people now sitting at the tables- and many more had arrived since he'd entered- turned to watch. Io felt a hot prickle of anger, and a wave of heat, travel up his face. Bellatrix moved closer to him and laughed raucously in his face, he felt her hot, stale smelling breath on his face and grimaced. She turned and bounced on her heel.

He stood rooted to the spot, shaking, aware that many were now laughing, staring at him as he stood there, speechless. Io grabbed a bowl of chicken soup and hurled it as hard as he could at Bellatrix's turned back, imagining it as an oddly shaped quaffle. The soup drenched Bellatrix's back in steaming yellow liquid, and she was covered in odd bits of chicken and corn. He'd only realised what he'd done when the image of Bellatrix drenched and steaming registered in his brain, and he gave a shocked chuckle. He was simultaneously awed and shocked that he had just done that. As Bellatrix turned to him in rage, he whipped out his wand, still grinning.

'Try me Bella, it's been a long two months I haven't jinxed you, I'm kind of missing it.' She responded with a jinx, which he hurriedly avoided. He sent a jinx right back at her. It didn't land on her; instead, it deflected and a cry rang out across the hall.

'ENOUGH!' McGonagall had just stridden into the hall, and was blazing towards them, looking fearsome. 'WHAT-what in Merlin's beard is going on here? Miss Black, why are you doused in-in...Is that soup?' She looked from Io to Bellatrix, to the cracked soup bowl on the ground, her mouth becoming thinner by the minute and her eyebrows disappearing into her hair. She was speechless for a minute, but then unfortunately, regained speech quite quickly. 'Detention, the both of you, in my office tonight-no Mr. Sonorous, I will not hear it. Twenty points from each of Slytherin and Ravenclaw for this. A further ten points from Ravenclaw for the soup! Now kindly return to your tables' she stormed off, looking haggard, towards the table at the head of the hall.

Io walked off to the tables, glad he had gotten away with just one night's detention. The hilarity of what had just happened struck him more with every step he took towards his seat, so much so that by the time he had reached it, he was laughing fit to burst and trying in vain to pass it off as a violent coughing fit. When he'd sat down, he realised Morph was already there, was surveying him in mingled amusement and horror. Io felt it was safe to laugh loudly if he was with someone else, and stopped trying to pretend he wasn't laughing. His laughter rang out in his ears and he didn't try to suppress it. This moment would be forever be imprinted in his memory and he would've gladly taken detention every night this month to have that memory in his head.

When he'd recovered, he found himself joined now by Oliver and Melody, he and Morph started filling them in on what had happened. Oliver kept his face straight and didn't comment in the beginning, no doubt trying to live up to his prefect status, but succumbed to laughter soon after. Melody was hooting with laughter, her eyes streaming. Morph however had stopped laughing a while ago. He was aware of Professor McGonagall staring at them with such intensity that he felt as though he might shrivel up. He was the only one to notice the boy now walking towards them.

A tall, athletic looking Ravenclaw with close cropped brown hair, two shaved stripes out of his left eyebrow and many piercings in his ear, appeared next to Morph as the pudding appeared in front of him. Morph smiled widely at the Ravenclaw Quidditch team captain, Dirk Creswell, who gave a tight smile and sat down to next to the talented keeper, amidst a raucous greeting from the now euphoric crowd.

He waited quite a time for the boisterous outbursts to subside, and as they fell back into yet another outburst of laughter, Dirk threw Morph an amused glance, at which Morph simply chuckled nervously.

'Alrigh',' growled Dirk in his thick Scottish inflection, 'will yer' all jus' shut up and listen fer' two minutes, I wanna sleep some taime thais caintury.'

'Oh, sorry Dirk,' muttered Melody as they turned, rubbing the tip of her nose and grinning apologetically. Io had frozen, his spoon in mid-air, nodding for him to continue. It had just occurred to him that he was meant to be at Quidditch tryouts tonight. It felt as though a stone had dropped in his stomach.

'Righ',' he started, looking at the team who'd rearranged their faces into expressions of seriousness, 'wael thain, it seems we'll be one player short tonight coz of yer detaintion Io -yer must've sait a raicord- so I'll have ter cancel tryouts. Bu' now, I'd laike ter' pick the players on the team as soon as possible. Whaen are yer' all free?'

'I reckon anytime would be good with us,' murmured Morph quickly, the others nodding in agreement, 'the sooner the better. Set your time and we'll all be there.'

'Wael thain, I'll pick an afternoon before thais weekend, and I'll saind out word to yer' all, with thaim papers again.' He rose, a cavernous yawn stretching over his face, 'Ah, an' tray ter avoid detaintion Io, its only the firs' day fer God's saike.' he added loudly. With that, he turned on his heel and loped off.

After a pleasant dinner, Io waved the group goodbye and made his way to McGonagall's office. He had no idea what his detention would be like, but he was not worried. McGonagall was certainly strict, but she was fair, and unlike Filch, wouldn't breathe down your neck or wheeze at you. When he reached her door, he found Bellatrix standing there, looking sulkier than her heavy lidded eyes usually made her look. She threw him a poisonous glare but said nothing. Neither of them dared start any trouble right under McGonagall's nose. After a few minutes, McGonagall stepped out, held the door open for them, and wordlessly ushered them inside. Once inside, she handed them thick dragon hide gloves, like the ones they would use in Herbology and drew their attention to a set of boxes sitting in front of her. They were all plants used as potions ingredients, but different from what he was used to somehow. He looked at McGonagall, bemused.

'These are plants and animals which Professor Sprout and Kahina have collected and collected for the Potions department. However, before they can be used, they must be refined. I was delegated this task. However, since you felt the need to turn the Great Hall into the scene of a common pub brawl,' here she paused, her eyes boring into each of them, 'I have delegated this task to you. Each potions ingredient has a description of what needs to be done. I will half the ingredients amongst you and expect you both to work in silence. You may leave once you are done, and I expect no such misconduct in the future or you shall bear the brunt of my displeasure. Are we clear Miss Black, Mr. Sonorous?' They quickly nodded and set to work.

The first box Io was set with cleaning was labelled; _Aconite. (The leaves are poisonous, but the flowers are valuable. Remove the leaves, leaving the rest in tact)._ Io had what looked like two dozen flowers. They were quite small so it was fiddly work, teasing off the leaves without injuring the rest. He placed the leaves into a box which was labelled, _waste_, and moved onto the next box. This box was labelled; _Ashwinder eggs (extremely hot and flammable, employ a freezing charm to freeze them, and then place in the sealed box labelled 'frozen A.E')._ Io set about using the freezing charm (using the incantation 'Glacius') on each of the eggs in turn. He then placed each of the eggs into the box. The next box was labelled_; Asphodel (Remove the roots, wash them and grind them to a thin powder, then put into the jar labelled 'powdered root of asphodel')._ Io cut off the roots, employed the cleaning charm he had seen Aberforth use, and reached for a mortar and pestle. He ground the roots to a fine powder, and then placed it in the jar as instructed. The next box was labelled; _Shivelfig (Skin and then collect the purple liquid inside in the vial labelled 'shrivel fig juice'). _Io carried on like this through another dozen ingredients in front of him, with McGonagall scratching through reams of parchment, and Bellatrix doing the same as him. When he had finished, slightly later than Bellatrix, he presented his work to McGonagall, bade her goodnight, and set off for the long walk up to Ravenclaw tower.

No one was there when he returned to the tower, after midnight. He dragged himself up the stairs changed reluctantly and fell into bed.


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning, as promised, Dirk's distinct paper plane reached Io as he filed into double potions that afternoon, it simply read.

Hiya,

I've booked the pitch for Thursday night, see you then and try to stay out of trouble.

Dirk

Io and pocketed it, then placed his textbook on the table, the familiar haze which engulfed the potions room pounding a dull ache in his temple. Through the haze, Slughorn came hobbling towards them, carrying two miniature cauldrons in his hands, only one seemingly contained a potion. Slughorn set them on his desk, wiping the sweat from his ruddy forehead and turning to them. 'Well then,' he warbled dramatically, 'you must all be wondering what wonders wait in these cauldrons.' Giving an imperious gesture towards the first, he spoke to the room at large, 'does anyone recognise this?'

He had motioned to a colourless potion which Io had not been able to make out at first, thinking the cauldron to be empty. Now that he scrutinised it closely, he could see its presence was betrayed by a faint shimmer of light dancing on its surface. Two rows ahead of him, a hand reached into the air, at which point Slughorn had sang out, 'Why of course, Lily!'

'It's Veritaserum sir.'

'Exactly that, my dear, you are as always, correct,' sang Slughorn, clapping his hands together, 'and do you know what this potion does?'

'It makes the drinker tell the truth,' she answered without hesitation.

'Very good, ten points to Gryffindor!'

Slughorn strode over to where he'd pitched the next cauldron. Inside it was a lilac potion with a strange glittery lustre, which seemed to be effusing strange spiralling smoke from its surface. 'And does anyone recognise this one?' he asked, smiling widely at them.

Once again, Lily Evan's hand rose into the air, at which Slughorn gave a dramatized cry.

'Oho! Lily again,' he smiled good naturedly at the black haired Slytherin sitting next to Lily, 'Surely you know this Severus, my boy, you can't let all the points go to Lily!' he protested half-heartedly. Severus made no indication of having heard him for a few moments, his face cold. Then, barely moving his lips, he muttered. 'It's Amortentia, a so-called _love_ potion which brings on fanatical obsessions or infatuations,' said Severus, his tone sardonic.

'Very well done Severus,' said Slughorn. His tone jolly, he turned to Lily once again, 'and what are its defining characteristics my dear?'

'It's mother of pearl sheen, the spirals of steam and the distinctive smell.'

'Well done, ten more points to Gryffindor!' he sang, adding in afterthought, 'Oh, and ten to Slytherin for you Severus.'

'Of course, the distinctive thing about the smell of this potion, is that it smells differently to each one of us,' he intoned, 'Lazarus, what do you smell?'

'I-I smell lemongrass and butterbeer sir.'

'An interesting combination, 'he murmured, 'and you Enrique?'

'I smell lavenders sir, and rose water.'

Io accidentally snorted loudly at this, causing a few heads to turn towards him. He quickly clamped his hand over his mouth and started smelling the potion for himself. He merely sat there, breathing deeply, the smell of the potion making him woozy with happiness. He cupped his chin in his hand and stared serenely out of the window. A small voice at the back of his head told him to snap out of it. He turned to Slughorn, who has apparently just asked him a question, 'well Io?'

'Uh, I can't pinpoint the exact smell sir, but I can make out a weird earthy smell, essence of myrtle map and broom wax.'

'Essence of myrtle map, eh? Quite a distinctive smell, it has. Interesting, interesting,' murmured Slughorn. 'Well, now,' he proclaimed, clapping his beefy hands together again, 'there are you instructions for making Veritaserum,' at which the instructions appeared on the blackboard behind him, 'you have an hour and a half before I call the time.'

They jostled around; reaching for ingredients and equipment, and then all noise became muffled as everyone turned to their potions, concentrating. Io was having trouble cutting up the Sopophorous bean. Its hide was extremely thick. Grunting, he laid down his knife and raised his hand into the air.

Slughorn appeared all of a sudden out of the thickening haze, making him jump. 'Yes? Any trouble?'

'Uh, I just have one question sir. What is the use of the Sopophorous bean in this potion? I mean to say, what component of the bean is required for the potion?'

'The bean's juice, it is released into the potion upon dicing finely.'

'Thank you sir,' uttered Io, turning back to the bean. If all they needed was the bean's juices, maybe he could crush the bean? Although it seemed unlikely the shrivelled bean would release much juice. He grabbed his silver knife, placed it flat side down on the bean and slammed the heel of his palm into the blade, wishing he'd needed the skin or something else, of the bean. There seemed to be almost no liquid in the bean. When the blade pushed down on the bean however, a disproportionately large amount of liquid issued from it.

Pleasantly surprised, Io drained the liquid into his cauldron, his potion turning into the lilac colour described on the board. As he stirred, he disregarded the instruction of stirring clockwise only. He had read in his previous years' potions book to add a stir in the opposite direction every after every seven stirs. It had explained the particle theory of integration, which stated that when stirring continuously in one direction; groups of particles were shifted together, rather than being mixed. However, when adding an opposing stir, a whorl is formed, which integrates all of the particles, mixing the particles optimally, and providing a perfect yield of potion. As seven was heralded to be the most magically powerful number, potioneers had been following this rule for centuries.

Thankfully, Io's potion had turned the same shade of pale pink as was described by the instructions to be the 'halfway point'. Things often went tits-up for him in potions, so he was glad for the apparent change. This was their end point for today, since this pale pink potion would then need to mature for six months. Then further ingredients must be added in order to obtain that distinctive colourless liquid.

Glad to have not made a rat's arse of his potion, he poured some of his potion into a vial, labelled it with his name, and placed it on Slughorn's desk. He then turned around and started packing up his things, and waited for the bell to ring.

Io spent the last few minutes sitting silently at the table, trying to pinpoint the indistinguishable smells he smelt coming off the Amortentia potion, drumming the fingers of his left hand on the table. Whatever they were, he was sure he'd smelt them at or around Hogwarts, probably the green houses. When the bell rang and he followed the others out, he was still pondering this.

Io heard footsteps behind him and turned around. Lily and Severus were striding towards him, having left potions late as always, despite having finished their potions around the same time as him. They were weighed down with potions textbooks which they had borrowed from Slughorn. They were heavy volumes bound delicately in expensive looking fabrics. They had obviously been cared for exceptionally well, for although the pages were yellowed with age, they betrayed no sign of having been handled, other than the flexibility of the spines. Io could see why Slughorn had picked them for the 'Slug club', as it was called, they were incredibly hard working and talented. He raised a hand in greeting to both of them, and then leant against the wall lazily as he arrived at their DADA classroom, he was famished.

An elegant man in a white shirt and black pants, short brown hair and the watchful eyes of a soldier strode out, eyeing the assembled crowd outside his class serenely until they realised he was there. He then held the door open, ushered them in and followed the last one into the room, shutting the door behind him.

He waited patiently for them to settle down, a good natured expression gracing his heavily scarred face. The class fell into silence quickly, eager to start class. Professor McIntyre had an unorthodox, yet effective way of teaching his students how to defend themselves against the dark arts. Having spent most of his life working as an Auror, he seemed to know all there was to know about evading the wrath of the highly creative, ever changing arts that were employed by dark wizards. He was currently working at Hogwarts as not only a DADA professor, but also as part of the system put in place to protect students as they ventured into dark times.

'Welcome back to Hogwarts,' he murmured in his rich, measured voice, 'I assume the importance of your OWLs has been _touched upon_ by your other teachers, so I will not foray into this subject. Let us begin.'

He flicked his wand, and three headings appeared on the board. Outdoor survival, magical beings and counter charms/curses/jinxes.

'We will learn about three different areas; Equipping yourself for outdoor survival, recognition and defence against beings employed by dark wizards, or those which could be threatening, and recognition of dark enchantments, and adequate defences against them.'

He sat down behind his desk and laced his fingers together in front of his face, eyeing the class. He scratched his chin, eyeing the weather outside and pondering whether it would allow them to do the project he'd been planning to do, then he put his hands down and readdressed the class.

'I would like to do a practical exercise with you, to test your knowledge of protective enchantments around temporary dwellings. But I would also like to instil in you the measurements required to survive away from 'civilisation'. In order to do this, I require a weekend of your time,' he added amiably, 'if you are amenable. May I please have a show of hands as to who would like to participate in such an exercise?'

Io looked at Morph, who had arrived late, and they raised their hands simultaneously, excited at the prospect, both knowing that they need that exact training. McIntyre smiled at the two who had eagerly shot their hands up at his request. Lily and Severus, sitting across from the eager, two raised their hands next. A Slytherin sitting behind them, Blackthorn followed.

Soon the whole class had their hands in the air, and McIntyre nodded at them, motioning for them to let their hands down.

'Very well, I will make arrangements for this exercise then. I have two more things to bore you with before we get started on practice. Firstly, to make this authentic, I will be choosing the pairs you will be working in. Secondly, I will not specify when exactly our practice weekend will be,' seeing the worried glances the Quidditch players in the class threw each other, he added, 'I will, of course, tell your Quidditch captains the exact date, to avoid any inconveniences.'

'You are to pack a bag of supplies you think you will need, on the condition that everything you bring can fit in this.' He held up a small black bag, at the flick of his wand, a similar one appeared in front of each of them.

Io picked his up, pondering what he'd be able to fit in this. The bag was about eight inches wide and fourteen inches long. The bags were obviously not meant to house large objects, only small ones. He couldn't think of anything that would help him survive, that could fit in there... maybe some vital potions ingredients, a really small sneakoscope? Was this meant to make them realise that they could only depend on their knowledge, ability to use initiative and physical abilities? It seemed the sort of thing that the Professor would do. Io eyed McIntyre's expression, scrutinising it for the slightest sign that this was the case. However, he was a skilled Auror, and his expression was inscrutable.

Io pocketed the pouch, aware that he would probably leave it empty unless he found some use for it soon.

'Now,' murmured McIntyre, quietly demanding their attention, 'I would like you to follow me, we are to practice some protective enchantments which are used in order to render places invisible to muggles and dark wizards alike, and also to repel and detect malevolent enchantments.'

Io dropped his book into his bag and waited for the crowd racing to follow McIntyre to thin. When it did, he stepped out the door and followed the rest of his class.

When Morph and Io entered the classroom, people had already paired up to practice the protective enchantments which conceal a place from any beings. Morph joined Blackthorn and Io joined Arthur. Some people had already disappeared from sight, taking with them areas of the room, so that its shape was distorted. Were these the enchantments that would make the area within untraceable except to wizards of very keen sensitivities to magic?

Arthur quickly proceeded to put up the protective enchantments on the board. Io got up, noticing that people were throwing him funny looks. He grinned sardonically back at them, no amount of pointed looks would make him regret throwing soup at Bellatrix. Io joined in with the enchantments, and they quickly and efficiently set them up. They could still see out, but apparently, the people around them who were still going could not see in. Their eyes seemed to glide over where they sat, as if unable to perceive them. It looked like they'd been successful. Io was reminded of how muggles didn't seem to be able to see wizarding shops in London.

Io and Arthur chattered good-naturedly as they sat waiting for McIntyre to test the strength of the concealment charms.

After a while they failed to hear a faint shuffling around their area, which announced that McIntyre was testing their defences. When McIntyre dissolved the defences, it was to two boys immersed in conversation about the influence of muggle political upheavals on wizarding legislation.

He gave them an approving look and pronounced their defences to be 'very solid, untraceable to any wizard of a lower calibre-if you excuse my lack of humility-than myself.'

When the whole class had been uncovered by McIntyre, he addressed them briefly.

'Next time, I hope to revise summoning charms briefly with you. While not necessarily in the scope of this subject, it is essential for survival, so please practice this charm as homework. Moreover, I hope to introduce healing charms to you, these will allow you to heal minor injuries; cuts, burns, deep gashes, some select cursed wounds et cetera. I also intend to cover useful plants and how to turn them into vital potions, especially those that cure wounds. I would like you to read the parts in your Herbology books concerning dittany and its uses it potion making. I will also teach you how to make a portkey to transport you to a given destination; this will come in handy, since you are not yet able to apparate. Till then, take care.'

'Right, off to dinner now. Uh, Io where are you going?'

He'd swept past Morph as he put his bag over his shoulder, unaware that he'd addressed him. Morph turned and pulled on the sleeve of the friend who'd been dazed. Sometimes, he worried for his sanity. 'Where are you going?' he repeated, grinning.

'Oh, uh yeah, I gotta go sorry,' muttered Io hurriedly, giving him what he hoped was a reassuring smile, 'I just realised I gotta do something, see you in practice if I miss dinner!'


	13. Chapter 13

He ran past the others coming out of DADA, and the people milling around the landing of the third floor corridor. He was the only one heading up the stairs, instead of down them to the dining hall; so naturally, he had a hard time pushing against the crowds buffeting him backwards. Finally, he managed to reach the almost deserted fourth floor, and he was able to go forward without having to wrestle anyone. After a few more minutes, he'd finally reached the owlery, the cold air in the semi-exposed chamber stinging his face as the winds outside howled. He knelt down, realising he hadn't yet written the letter he intended to send. He rummaged through his bag, searching for a quill and spare scrap of parchment.

When he finally found one, he craned over his parchment, the doorway offering a small shaft of light by which he could write.

Hi Abe:

The first two days back at school have been good. We definitely have more work, but if I manage to do a steady amount each day I should be alright. I have a really funny story to tell you. I'll come see you now, but I have to be back before 6:30. I have Quidditch at 7.

See you soon

Io

When he'd finished, he rolled the parchment quickly, then whistled through his teeth. It was the tune which he'd taught Norberta to answer to. As he looked around, surprised that she hadn't shown up, he realised she'd been sitting by his knee patiently waiting for him to finish scribbling. He quickly attached the scroll to her leg, patted her gently and told her to be off, with the promise of treats when she got back.

Io hurriedly put his quill into his bag and threw it over his shoulder. He then sprinted back down to the fourth floor, no longer having to push past hordes of people. In fact, the corridors were completely deserted except for Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, who seemed to believe he was up to something suspicious. She followed an irritated Io all the way to the portrait of the trolls on the landing of the fourth floor, and watched him bemusedly as he paced back and forth. As he went back and forth, he muttered, _I need a place to hide,_ _I need a place to hide, I need a place to hide_.

Fortunately, the portrait was replaced with an entrance, and Io scurried in, stopping Mrs. Norris from following by sticking his foot out. He felt a bit mean, but couldn't allow Filch to come in; he couldn't afford everyone knowing about this place.

He sat there for a while, trying to remember how to get to the Hog's Head, not knowing what the time was, and sure that Dirk would kill him when he did eventually arrive. He had already postponed try-outs because of him, he wouldn't be very happy if he had to do that again. Io looked around desperately for a watch, and as he thought that, a watch materialised on the ground next to him. It was 5:30; Dirk had wanted them assembled and ready at 7 o'clock. He silently calculated how much time it would take to go and get his broom, gloves and robes from the common room and go to practice, and decided he still had time.

As his stomach grumbled, he wished that he'd brought some food, and as he thought this, a door materialised on the wall. Io laughed as he suddenly remembered what Aberforth had said _'think: I need to find some food'._

Io stepped into the warm, beautiful smelling kitchen where he'd stayed during the holidays. Aberforth may look rough around the edges, but he could easily give a troupe of house elves and finicky housewives a run for their money when it came to preparing meals.

He couldn't find Aberforth around, and so was going from pot to pot, tasting and seasoning, humming under his breath as he did so. A small cough issued from behind him, and he saw Aberforth grin as he jumped and launched into an explanation of how he was 'only tasting, not eating.' Aberforth smiled and instructed him to cut up some carrots and onions.

'I see I'm being used as sous chef again,' he muttered, laughing. As he chopped the soup, Io narrated the story of his soup incident. He omitted what Bellatrix had said about Aberforth fiddling with goats and instead said she'd taunted him about scavenging from muggle bins. This was at least partially true as Bellatrix had done that too.

'I don't think anyone can fully grasp how much of a nutter that cousin of yours is' interjected Aberforth, smirking, 'but you with the soup! Runs in the blood I reckon eh?' He nodded sagely and gave him a fakely sympathetic look.

'What's that meant to mean?' exclaimed Io, 'Honestly Abe, I might just resign my position as house elf.'

'Nuttier than squirrel poo the poor sod, convinced you can resign from a house elf position.' He grinned once more and went back to humming happily as Io feigned taking offence at his criticism of their admittedly deranged family tree, in affronted tones.

'Anyway,' murmured Aberforth, turning serious as he remembered what Io had been about to talk about before they'd interrupted, 'did you get in trouble for that?'

'Not really, McGonagall caught us, but we only had to sort through potions ingredients.'

They sat eating around the table as they had during the holidays, Aberforth giving him a running commentary of what he'd missed out in the two days; he was surprised how much had happened in his absence, but was glad that he would be returning during the holidays.

'You better get going,' murmured Aberforth after what seemed like no time at all, looking at the clock which hung low over the fireplace. It read six thirty now. Io would merely have enough time to get his things and get changed. As it is, he may be a tiny bit late. Io hurriedly put his plate in the kitchen and said goodnight, with the promise that he would be back next night, or in his study period if he could manage it.

Io asked Ariana to allow him through to the passageway, at which point she smiled at him blankly, yet sweetly. With a last wave at Aberforth, who was now lazing by the fire behind him, he took off up the stairway, not wanting to stretch Dirk's patience any further. When he burst into the room of requirement, he ran quickly to the door, but before he got out, he thought it would do to equip the room better to conceal him, as he would definitely be coming back again_. I want no one to be able to come in when I'm using this room,_ he thought, as an afterthought, he added_, I don't want to be found when I get out of here. _He wasn't sure if the room could do that, but he figured it was worth a try.

When he stepped through the door, it disappeared faster than it usually did. He looked around in panic, not sure where the hell he had ended up. He ran, aware that he'd asked the stupidest thing ever of the room, "I don't want to be found when I get out of here". The room had interpreted this as; I don't want to come out of the same exit every time. So now, with only about half an hour to get to try-outs, he was hopelessly lost in some obscure corner of the castle. His head would be on a spear outside the Ravenclaw common room tonight, as a warning to others.

He strained his ears, trying to make out any noise that would betray his immediate whereabouts, and save his life, if not his place on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. After what seemed like a lifetime, he heard a faint 'wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!' in the distance, and started sprinting towards the noise. He had never felt so happy to find Peeves. When he reached him, he was floating high above him, on his back, seemingly sulking.

'Peeves, what's wrong?' inquired Io, seeing the downtrodden expression on Peeves' usually animated face.

'The Bloody Baron chased me away from the prefects' bathroom, I was chucking dung bombs,' he muttered miserably.

'Well,' started Io, unsure of how he could convince Peeves to help him, 'I'll help you if you help me!' It had come to him in a clear epiphany, he would help Peeves to evade the Bloody Baron, whatever the consequences, so that Peeves would help him.

'Help me do what?' whined Peeves, and blew a raspberry. 'Do you have any dung bombs?'

'Uh, no, I don't,' admitted Io, raising his voice as Peeves made every sign of interrupting, 'but I can make you invisible!' He had yelled it in a moment of stupidity, just wanting to get to the Ravenclaw tower. If -actually no- _when_ McGonagall found out that he'd made Peeves invisible, she would line up right behind Dirk to have his head on a spike. She had already warned him yesterday. Groaning inwardly, but seeing no other way to reason with Peeves, he addressed the poltergeist now intently watching him.

'You will? Well then do it!'

'I want to know where I am first, and how I can get to Ravenclaw tower the fastest.'

'Okay,' agreed Peeves, 'I'll take you to the Ravenclaw tower myself, but you have to promise to make me invisible.'

'Of course,' said Io, immensely relieved, 'you have my word Peeves! Have I ever lied to you?'

'Uh...no,' said Peeves. It was true; Io was one of the only people, other than the Bloody Baron, who could control Peeves. He couldn't scare him, of course, Peeves scared him sometimes. He simply made deals with him. They were lucrative, of course, but if a teacher found out, he would spend all his time in detention, for the next two centuries. The last time Io had needed something done, Peeves had had him help flood the first floor bathroom, for some strange reason. Io had spent the last semester in detention with Professor McGonagall.

'Okay Peeves, come down, I'll put a disillusionment charm on you and me. But I need you to honour your word as well.'

'Of course!' cried Peeves with immense pride, giving Io a salute, which Io returned with a grin.

He quickly put the disillusionment charm on Peeves, warning him that it would only last for two hours. He had the distinct impression that that would be no trouble for Peeves. Io asked Peeves to show him where to go, and Peeves simply held down an arm, which was only 'visible' as he was waving what looked like an old pair of bloomers, and yelled for him to hold on tight. With his stomach clenching into a fist, and wryly pondering what he would do for Quidditch, Io complied.

Peeves then lifted him into the air by his arms, almost wrenching his shoulders from his sockets, and flew past a blur of classrooms. Once Io got over the sheer terror of falling and breaking something, or dying, it was exhilarating. No one could see them go, but Io was sure that everyone could hear his yells, which mingled with Peeves' echoing ones of 'YOOOU CAN'T SEEE MEEE! I HAVE A DELILUSION CHARM!'

Laughing at the sheer hilarity of the situation as Peeves set him down in front of the knocker; Io thanked Peeves profusely and couldn't help but grin as he heard the poltergeist thank him back.

'No one's ever delilusioned me before, anytime you need anything, I am at your command!' Io imagined him giving him a salute, and so he gave a hasty one, before turning to knock the knocker. He hoped that this would be a doable question; it would amount to nothing if he couldn't get in.

As the tinkly voice issued, an already distant '' sounded through the castle.

'If you aim to fail, and then succeed, what have you done?' it inquired.

'Uh...both and neither' it was more a question than an answer.

'No, think Sonorous. By succeeding, do you not fail your aim, though by definition you have succeeded?'

'Yes, that is true, although, you could take the question at face value, and answer depending on the definition.' He didn't know why the hell he was stretching this out; he could make out a shrill voice in the back of his head screaming_ get_ _a move on!_

'That is true, but we never take questions at their face values yes? Although, I do not deny you are right in a sense, now continue please.'

'Ah, is attempting to fail not a failure in itself?'

'Yes, it is indeed.'

'Well then,' he murmured, pawing the ground in concentration, 'you've failed twice fold. First, by attempting to fail, you have already failed. Secondly, by succeeding, you have either failed your aim or upheld it. In either case, you have failed, I don't know which you have specified, Professor.'

'Well-reasoned Sonorous, you may enter. I suggest you hurry' she added, reminding him of his quest to go to the Quidditch pitch.

Io sprinted into the crowded common room, pushed past the crowds and went up the stairs. The clock said that it was 6:55, in five minutes, he would be expected down at the Quidditch pitch, an impossibility, given he was in Ravenclaw tower. It would take twenty minutes to get down to the foyer, five more to go to the pitch. In a nutshell, he was dead.

He threw off his clothes quickly and managed to pull on his robes while fishing through the stuff on the ground to find his broom. A minute late somehow, he was out in the common room, his broom in hand. Seeing no other way, he strode to the window with a view of the Quidditch pitch, wrenched it open, and jumped out.


	14. Chapter 14

When the people sitting closest to the window had registered what the nutcase had done, they started screaming, and soon, the whole room was alight with screams. They pointed out the window at Io, who was reassuringly waving his hand, trying to dampen the hysterics, to no avail. After a few pointless moments of trying, he pulled his broom around, and whizzed to the pitch.

The screams had apparently attracted the team's attention, for Dirk was already looking up at Io as he approached them. He didn't look angry that he'd left it so late or that he'd arrived in such a way. He had to admit that with Io as a chaser, there was never a dull moment. Io dismounted wordlessly, bowing his head in apology or embarrassment, Dirk wasn't sure which.

He continued with the explanation of what they'd do; 'Alrigh' as I was sayin' before ar' other chaiser here came along, I would laike to split yer up into two teams o' seven. Chaisers an' beaters all wael alternaite with yer fellows on my call, Tek,' he motioned to girl a head and a half shorter than Io, with her left temple shaved and the rest of her spiky black hair in a very interesting style, 'as yer tryin' fer seeker, ye'll be going against me fer the whole game. I'll sort yers inter' teams, thain we'll star'!'

Io looked up at this announcement, unsure whether he'd heard wrong. He caught Dirk's eye and raised his eyebrows questioningly, wondering how in the hell they could replace the captain with someone else. Dirk shook his head imperceptibly at Io, motioning for him to wait, then went back to sort them into teams. Io was on a team with Jim, a stocky brown haired fourth year who handled his broom quite well, Elm, a thin, russet haired sixth year who he expected to be quite good at manoeuvring, two very muscled boys, a fourth year and a sixth year, who made the beater's bat look like a small wand in their hands. The new seeker, Tek, would also be on his team.

Morph would be keeper for both teams, so they'd be playing with half the pitch. Same rules apply, only, once a goal was scored, the team to which the ball was handed over would have to go to the other hoops, at the opposite end of the pitch, then come back. The seekers would be free to roam everywhere, as they couldn't control the path of the snitch.

Dirk walked over to the existing team, and addressed them quietly.

'Io, Mael, I don't want yer to hog the Quaffle, I'd laike to be able ter see what thaim newbies can manage, alrigh'?' Io nodded his agreement, and as he looked across at Melody, he saw she had done so too.

'Good. I'll be playin' seeker also, I wan' ter give Tek a chance, coz she said ter me that' my build wasn' raight fer seeker.'

'She said that? Of course your build's right!' interrupted Io fiercely, unaware that he was doing so, 'You've been a brilliant seeker! Are you resigning or something?' Morph had nodded furiously along with Io, although Melody had simply scrutinised Dirk's face wearily, unsure whether he was sick or something.

'I'll thank yer ter not shout at me Io,' growled Dirk irately, staring him down. He didn't start to speak again until Io muttered an apology quietly, and nodded for him to continue, ' Thank yer, I know that 'course, but, thaire's a chance that me build may slow me down more than Tek, we wael see terday. I wael of course, ask yer opinions as wail, alrigh'?'

Io glanced across at Morph, who looked back at him worriedly. Melody was still frowning at Dirk however. 'And if she's better than you-

'Which is highly unlikely,' muttered Io, livid at this new development, and that she'd even _consider_ another seeker.

'If she's better than you,' continued Melody, pretending he'd said nothing, 'what will you do?'

'I will saimply switch to chaiser. Any objaictions?' he growled, letting his eyes fall on Io and daring him to say anything else. Io scowled when Dirk's gaze fell on him, however he held his tongue, eyeing the muscle twitch in Dirk's jaw that indicated that he would not take any more shit, and shook his head resignedly. Sighing, he strode off towards his new team, trying to not scowl.

The others watched him go, waiting for Dirk to dismiss them, but he'd also trodden off, in the opposite direction; to fetch the box containing the Quaffle, two Bludgers and the Snitch.

He lined them up in their teams, opposite each other, asked the captains, Melody and Io, to shake hands, then blew his whistle. Io burst into the air, racing after the Quaffle, to gain possession of it first, and as the others trying out for the position of chaser realised what he was doing, he held back, and let them go fetch it. He squinted up; looking at the people huddled around the Quaffle, trying to make out who had it, when one of the people came down. They were on Mel's Team.

'DEFENSE!' he hollered, channelling his frustration into making his voice heard over the wind. As one, the team raced forward. He followed in the others' lead, calling out suggestions as he saw helpful. Jim became flustered when he yelled out orders so he stopped doing so immediately, to give him a fair go.

As one of Mel's team tried passing it to her, he flew past Mel, and jumped out, caught the Quaffle by his finger tips and rolled through the air once to get re-seated on his broom. He quickly threw it to Elm, who went to the other end of the pitch as was required after a handover under these half-pitch rules, and came back. She then passed it to Jim, who dodged a Bludger beautifully, but fumbled in passing it to Io. Io passed it back to Elm as he dodged a Bludger hit ferociously by a short girl on the other team, by the skin of his teeth. Elm launched it through the air at Morph, and feinted at the last minute, so that a split second after Morph had dived to the left hoop, she launched it at the right.

'YEAH!' yelled Elm, but Io, knowing Morph, was more cautious about celebrating. In the split second after he'd realised she feinted, Morph launched himself off his broom, much as Io had just done, and stretched himself out so he was lying sideways in the air momentarily. He then scissor kicked the Quaffle off-course in a bout of pure athleticism.

Io, amazed at his friend's bout of genius, couldn't help the cheer that escaped him, and started clapping loudly. Turning to Elm, who looked slightly disappointed, he said, 'Don't worry, that was an amazing hurl, you had such force, and the _feint_,' he muttered, awed, 'pure genius, this guy's just amazing; I have a real hard time scoring against him. Other teams' keepers don't _compare_!' He high-fived the two genially, roaring with laughter at the possibilities of this amazing team. He could already see them hoisting the Quidditch cup this year.

Jim also launched an amazing throw at Morph, who, once again, stopped it. Melody's team was having trouble with interceptions, but were very speedy once they got in possession of the Quaffle. They too, had had failed attempts at scoring. Io was hovering in mid-air, calling across tactics to the other two, when he felt a pain erupting in the back of his shoulder. A Bludger had once again, been aimed at him by that short third year girl who seemingly had it in for him, and Io, having not been paying attention, fell forward off his broom.

He quickly grabbed his wand and muttered 'Wingardium leviosa', just a mere metre away from the ground. Sighing in relief, he raised himself awkwardly back up to his broom by use of this simple charm, and then he perched himself back on his broom. The other two looked shocked and Io called out to the girl who'd aimed the Bludger, 'Don't worry, and keep doing your thing! I want you on our team, just glad I don't have to go against you after today!' Dirk, who had stopped in mid-air, his jaw hanging open, and Tek, seemed to take this as a sign to go back to seeking. A couple of goals later, Dirk loudly sounded his whistle, and Io shook hands with Elm and Jim, genuinely sad to see them being replaced, 'I'll see you guys in the common room,' he said grinning, 'whatever happens, I want to play a game with you guys again, that was epic!'

They were replaced by a lanky third year called Rick and another stocky fourth year, Martin. Io and Melody once again shook hands, by this time Io's breath coming in short, sharp bursts from all the jumps, leaps, twists and hurls of the long evening. As the Quaffle was released, the other two burst off from the ground, racing to gain possession. Io once again held back, and squinted up at the crowd around the Quaffle.

After a few moments passed and nothing happened, he looked down to see Tek looking around her, yet completely stationary. Dirk, on the other hand, was calmly and methodically scanning the pitch, looking up and down as he circled. He noticed Io watching his progress and simply pointed a finger upwards. Io looked up hurriedly, and saw that they were returning back down to the ground. He whirled his broom in their direction and raced forward. Martin had caught the Quaffle and now hurled it at Io, who caught it in his fingertips, then, sliding it along his arm to retain its momentum, tossed it to Rick, as he came face to face with a brick wall of a chaser, on Melody's team. He scooped up quickly and weaved between him, Melody and one of the beaters. He yelled out quickly for Rick to pass him the Quaffle as he proceeded towards Morph. As Rick went to hurl it, he saw Melody dive in to interfere, attempting to surround him on all sides. Another chaser was on his other side, ready to intercept.

Io gave Rick a pointed glance, gesturing for him to not pass it, and then he pulled out quickly of his sprint to the hoops. As he started to fly directly upwards in the seconds after that, Melody and the other chasers overtook him quickly, leaving him free to catch the Quaffle. Rick quickly threw it and Martin sprinted forward, anticipating Io would throw it to him. He did, and Martin flew quickly towards the goal, and prepared to throw it. At the last second, he threw it back at Io, who hurriedly threw it to Rick, who launched it in an arc into the middle hoop, with disproportionate force from his lanky arms. Morph missed this one, having been confused by all the changeovers, and by the arc in which the Quaffle travelled.

Rick pumped his fists and patted Io and Martin on the back, before they fell back to defence. After half an hour, Melody's team was up one goal, and Io's was on their tails, trying to gain back possession. Something whistled in front of Melody, halting her in her tracks and stopping them as a result. All eyes looked up at Dirk, who was rising up in a vertical line, following a faintly glimmering object, the snitch. He raced upwards, then arced downwards again as it returned, weaving in and out of the players as he did so. Melody instructed the others to not move a muscle, knowing how quickly Dirk moved when in pursuit of the snitch.

Tek had only just realised that Dirk was following the snitch, and now followed. Io had to admit she was reaching pretty high speeds, but her observation frankly stank. She was now head-to-head with Dirk, and as they continued to race after it together, Io wondered what Dirk would do if Tek caught it, despite only having seen it now. Knowing him, he'd probably say she was the better seeker and become a chaser. Io swore sourly that if that happened, he'd give up on this year's Quidditch team as a bunch of nutjobs and go join the charms club or something stupid like that.

Io was roused by raucous cheering, and he saw that people had converged around someone on the ground, but he couldn't tell who. He raced down to the ground, and jumped off his broom when it was a metre above the ground, giving him the most horrible ground shock he's had in a while. He pushed in through the crowd roughly, wondering if he really would give up Quidditch if Dirk abandoned them to this seeker.

He was pleasantly surprised to find Morph, Melody and a few others huddled around Dirk, congratulating him on having found the snitch, no doubt. Io exhaled, not realising he'd been holding his breath. He tried catching Dirk's eye to apologise, but it didn't seem to notice it. So he merely stood there and grinned, neither involved in, nor detached from, the proceedings.

Morph and Melody detached themselves from the scrum the members of the old team had formed, clapping Dirk on the back and grinning widely. Dirk turned to Tek and Io looked on, interested in how she would react. She had seemed detached and almost slightly bored during the whole thing, and as Dirk approached her, she shook his hand with good grace and accepted he'd won with a small smile. Io scrutinised her, bemused at how her face remained completely devoid of emotion. Dirk turned to the others and addressed them. However, Io's eyes were tailing the girl who was now traversing the now dark grounds, broom in hand and kicking up a disproportionate amount of earth as she trudged along. Io narrowed his eyes, unsure as to why she'd even shown up to trails. It didn't sit well with him.

A loud cough interrupted him as he watched the retreating back of their would-be seeker, and Io turned to find Dirk addressing the rest of them once more. He turned his attention on their _actual seeker_, and listened intently, anxious to not stir up any more trouble.

'I wail talk ter yer heads o' teams,' he inclined his head at Melody and Io in turn, 'and Morph, ter decide who wail stay on as ar other chaiser an' ar two beaters. But till thain, I hope yer all have a good nigh'.' And with that, they strode off towards the castle, many waving at Io cheerfully as they walked past him, Elm and Jim yelling at him that they'll take him up on the offer of that Quidditch match any time. The short girl who'd almost killed him also waved and ran up to him, apologising profusely for doing so. Io merely waved his hand and grinned, commenting on her accurate aim and incredible strength. 'Couldn't have done anywhere near as well, myself,' he reassured her cheerily, 'We don't want you apologising! We want you to throw that Bludger without mercy.'

Io packed up all of their brooms, as was habitual, and started to make for the castle, wishing to give Dirk a goodnight's sleep to forget about Io's question of his authority in front of all the Ravenclaws trying out.

'Well, goodnight everyone,' he called out cheerfully over his shoulder, 'see y'all in the morning.'

'Night Io!' called out Morph, not calling his friend back, knowing exactly why he'd made a beeline for it.

'See ya at breakfast,' called Melody, waving at him happily, not able to wait to rub his loss in his face she added silkily, 'I know it'll be hard for you to wait up for me, since you lost and all…'

Io turned around at the provocation, outraged, 'I didn't lose you Snorcack,' he smiled, knowing Xeno would've been proud, 'I clearly out played you today! You want a rematch?'

'Yeah actually,' she trilled, 'how bout right here dumb arse?'

'Fine' he dropped the brooms and tossed Melody's hers; he turned to go get the Quaffle, only to see Dirk holding it. He had been about to put it in the box, since the other three were much harder to lodge in place. 'Oh, right,' he said, realising it was quite late, 'how 'bout tomorrow Mel?'

'Looooooooooooooo_ser_,' trilled Melody, happy at the apparent assertion of her superiority, 'just admit I'm better and we can go.'

'Actually,' said Dirk, straightening up, 'I don' think there'll be any reason to do tha', I raickon we pack up an' get orn with it. We all need ter sleep if we're gonna decaide who ter put on thais team o' ars yeah?'

'Oh, come on Dirk,' crooned Melody, her hands in front of her face pleadingly, 'back me up. He deserves it after yelling at you like that before!' she smirked at Io's shocked expression and his quiet protest of 'below the belt!'

'Quie' yer two! Melody, tha' is sorted now I hope,' at which he cocked a brow at Io, who grinned quickly and nodded, 'an' we're a team, I don't wanna see anyone throwin' anyone else under the dragon yeah? Now,' he threw the brooms discarded a few metres away from him, to Melody, 'yer can take the brooms up to the common room fer yer cheek. Morph, yer free ter go, yer look knackered. And Io, I'll need some help with thaim Bludgers.' Melody gave Io a scathing look when he snorted, and punched him in the arm.

Morph uttered a faint 'Goodnight' having made a thousand brilliant saves throughout the night. He gave Io a sympathetic look over his shoulder, knowing what Dirk could be like when someone got on his nerves. If it was a teammate or friend, he didn't get angry as he did with others. Instead, he had this routine where he would display his disappointment blatantly, without saying a word. Io understood him and wished he could've just walked off. He bunched his hands in his pockets and sighed inwardly, knowing that there was more than one thing he had done to make Dirk lose his nerve tonight.


	15. Chapter 15

Dirk had three rules, turn up on time, respect my authority and do not get killed. Io had almost broken all three tonight, and as he struggled with a particularly sour Bludger, he wondered when he would actually speak up. Finally, he did, not sounding nearly as angry as Io thought he would have.

'I of cours', did no' expec' yer ter show up on a broom, after havin' jumped ou' o' the common room window,' Io had opened his mouth to defend himself, but said nothing, not sure how he'd explain how a room in Hogwarts was connected to a pub in Hogsmead, 'but I paid no heed to I', decidin' you migh' 'ave run inter' trouble again. Thain, whain I announce tha' I'm considerin' puttin' someone' ailse as seeker on ther team, I find opposition no' from those who 'ave never played with me as chaser, but from the very person who's been playin' orn the same team as me the longest-

'No, Dirk,' he inclined his head in apology, 'cause he'd interrupted, ' I have no trouble with you playing chaser, as long as it's not 'cause of some random who tells you don't have the right _build _to be a seeker, and I didn't mean to question your authority, I didn't mean to shout either,' he muttered, his voice straining to escape him as he struggled against the Bludger pounding him, 'it just came out, I thought you were quitting or something to be honest.' Dirk wordlessly strapped his Bludger into the harness, not looking at Io, obviously still disappointed to not have been backed up by his oldest teammate.

Io tried to say something to apologise, but the Bludger was now wriggling viciously in his arms, stretching his arms back in its attempted to escape and then banging into his chest with the strength of a wild boar. He made a small noise to catch the attention of the captain now determinedly not looking at him, obviously disappointed. That's the thing with Dirk, he'll go easy, easy, easy, but then once you disappoint him one too many times, or in quick succession, he won't be as forgiving.

As a resounding bang seemed to have cracked his ribs Io managed to give out a muffled cry, 'Oi, do you mind man, I'm dying here.' Dirk looked up in shock, at the chaser now being pummelled by an especially crabby Bludger, which seemed keen on breaking his ribs by the looks of it. He grabbed it and hauled it out of Io's arms, pushing it quickly into its harness and shutting it in. Io doubled over, his breath catching in his throat and the banging still resonating in his ribs from the darned Bludger.

Dirk closed the case with a resounding snap that echoed across the deserted grounds. Io hurriedly straightened up, and eyed Dirk, unsure as to whether all had been forgiven or not. The captain's face was unreadable, his lips a thin line as he returned Io's gaze. 'Look, honestly, I'm sorry alright? I usually back you up 'cause I trust your judgement, but I forgot 'bout that today. And I didn't realise you'd be expecting me to back you up, you seemed to have made up your mind.' Io eyed the still tense face wearily, wishing they could just forget about it, yet knowing that he may have ruined Dirk's confidence in feeling he could lead all the others tonight. 'I didn't mean to undermine your leadership either,' he murmured almost inaudibly. Dirk eyed the friend who had played alongside him since his second year at Hogwarts and couldn't help but cut him a little slack.

'Wail, alrigh'' murmured Dirk, 'It was just' disappointin'.' Dirk's frozen expression disappeared off his face, and Io grinned widely, striding up to Dirk and hauling the heavy crate of Quidditch supplies over his shoulder, then starting to walk towards the castle.

'I knew you'd win though,' added Io, 'I just kind of blanked out when you were head-to-head, I was wondering what stupid noble thing you'd do if she caught the snitch even though she hadn't seen it till you'd basically followed it around the pitch twice.'

'Stupid noble thing?' murmured Dirk disbelievingly, grinning, but Io hadn't picked up on it, he kept going, recounting what he'd saw, or rather, hadn't.

'I quit blanking out just in time to see everyone on the ground and I couldn't see who'd won, and by the time I got down you weren't looking at me, and I didn't want to apologise in front of everyone.'

'Wail, I thought yer wer sulking or somethin', when yer didn' come down…Although it ain' laike yer ter do tha'.'

'Well I thought you were sulking when I came down as well, so I'd daresay we were even, if it weren't my fault to start with. Anyway, do you actually wanna be chaser?' Io hadn't pondered this question at all, and only now did it hit him that Dirk may have wanted to be more involved with things.

Dirk scratched his chin amiably, 'Wail, yeah, I gait bored down on me own sometimes, yer remember how fun it was whain we both played chaser? It gets tedious racin' round lookin' fer a miniscule ball that doesn' show up, not being able to join in with the raist of the team.' Io hadn't thought of that before, it was true he knew he'd have gotten bored, but he'd always assumed that Dirk had enjoyed his role.

'But you're the captain, you know that ay? We all basically just revolve around you, what with all the hard-core exercises, early training and pre-match speeches. Don't listen to me, I mean,' he said with a laugh, remembering this afternoon, 'I put a disillusionment charm on Peeves for god sake!'

'Yer did wha' Sonorous yer twit?' muttered Dirk, completely stunned at this latest development. Io's jaw dropped as he realised he hadn't meant to say this out loud.

'Oh, well, I was in this weird place in the castle and training was in half an hour and I didn't know what to do. I heard Peeves and I ran to him, and he was sulking-

'Are yer tellin' me yer made a deal with 'im again, whain yer had detaintion yesterday with McGonagall?' growled Dirk, looking mystified as to why anyone would keep making deals with that tornado. Io rearranged his face and held his hands up in front of him defensively, dropping the heavy crate on his foot. He opened his mouth in what turned out to be a scream of silent agony, his eyes streamed as he hopped on the spot, cradling his foot in his hands and doing a silent dance.

Dirk reached in his robes for the essence of myrtlemap he brought along with him to training for this reason. Io silently took it and took his shoe and sock off. His foot had been squashed by the vast crate, and it was already blue and swollen. Dirk wordlessly crouched down and cut a small stretch of skin on Io's foot with his wand, and a trickle of congealed blood tumbled out. He muttered further incantations and the blood disappeared completely, and the swelling decreased. Io then dabbed the myrtle map on his poor foot, and gingerly put some weight on it. It was okay to walk on.

He bent to pick up the crate, at which point Dirk stopped him hastily and offered to carry it. 'Yer know yer accident prone?' he said, chuckling lightly, 'keep going with yer story so I know wha' ter tell McGonagall as an excuse.'

'Oh, right, well I promised to put a disillusionment charm on him, if he told me where to go, 'cause he wanted to get past the Bloody Baron,' he added, 'something about dung bombs,' he muttered. Dirk fought to control a snort and kept listening, not sure what he _could _say to quell McGonagall's wrath. Io then went on to recount how Peeves had _flew_ him to the Ravenclaw tower, how he'd gotten dressed quickly, then _jumped out the window_. Dirk didn't trust himself to speak, so didn't say anything, hoping to hell that nothing of the sort ever happens before a game.

They reached the knocker, and Io knocked and waited for the tinkly voice to sound again.

'Happiness, is often referred to as the end of human nature, why is that?'

Dirk looked at Io with a bemused expression, having never heard anything of the sort. Dirk said nothing, he knew that Io, no matter how accident prone he was, or how tactless when it came to such things as Peeves and respecting authority, was the undisputed king of these riddles.

'Uh, this has to do with the muggle philosopher Aristotle, Professor?' murmured Io quietly, racking his brains for a concise explanation, he couldn't remember why Aristotle had said that.

'It does indeed, Sonorous.'

'Uh, well, some activities are desirable in their selves,' started Io, unsure as to where he was going, 'and nothing is sought beyond the activity, like doing a good thing…'

'Yes, that is true; you are on the right track.'

'And happiness is one of those activities, people seek happiness , as it is desirable for itself, not for the sake of something beyond it…Everything we choose, we choose for an end, like eating a meal, to be full, studying to become knowledgeable in something and so on. But in the pursuit of happiness, true happiness and not mere amusement, we are seeking an end, and as to be human is to seek things, when we attain happiness, we have, in essence reached the end of human nature, in a sense, no?'

'That is correct, well done. Goodnight gentlemen.'

As they strode into the common room, many people seemed surprised to see Io alive. Dirk rolled his eyes at the shrieks of people who had thought he'd been pushed from a window and died, convinced he had been reincarnated, or that Dumbledore brought him back to life. He strode over to an empty table and pulled up a chair, leaving Io surrounded by shrieking people; some hitting him because he'd scared them so much and some asking if he'd met their dead relatives.

Sometimes, he wondered if Ravenclaws really were that smart.

Io sat himself down wearily after a while had elapsed and he'd convinced the droves that he'd been running late for Quidditch practice, at which a group of girls he hadn't noticed before started wolf whistling and doing weird stuff to draw Io's attention, failing only because the clueless dunce hadn't realised they were aiming their actions at him. Chuckling, Dirk opened a small scroll of parchment with all the names and photos of those who had tried out. Io leant forwards, immediately pointing out the 'girl who'd almost killed' him, as the best beater.

'I think it woul' do ter have her on thais team, she could keep yer in laine when yer won' shu' up.' He murmured, seemingly serious. Io laughed raucously, muttering about being far too superior to be kept in line by her jokingly.

Dirk eyed him seriously, 'Yeh reckon she deserves ter be on the team?

Io stopped laughing quickly and rearranged his expression, 'Definitely!'

'Alrigh', tha's one down, what 'bout the other beater, did yer notice anyone? No one stood out fer me much…'

'Uh, no me neither to be honest, I thought the stocky ones would have a lot of strength behind them, but they were average.' Dirk nodded his agreement, and then slid the pictures of the other beaters aside. He then brought forward the pictures of the chasers. He looked at Io, whose face was scrunched up as he tried to think of the one chaser who deserved to be put on the team above all others. The look on his face mimicked his feelings exactly. There had been so many brilliant chasers that night, they couldn't choose. Io's hand had just been about to reach for his hair again when Dirk's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, and he muttered, grinning; 'Chill Io, it's not tha' serious.'

Io smiled; slightly embarrassed at this recurring action which everyone noticed he did when thinking deeply or when stressed. Dirk let go of his wrist, aware that his friend had smiled in mingled amusement and embarrassment; he decided to move on, smiling at him.

'What bout Elm?' He murmured, pointing at the girl who'd been on Io's team.

'Uh, right, she was really good, 'murmured Io, looking out the window to the pitch as he remembered her goal, 'she is really good at feinting, worked quite well with me,' he paused and scratched his chin, and pointed at the photo of Jim, 'he works really well in a team as well, he dodged a Bludger really well too…'

'And thaim other two on yer second team?' murmured Dirk, motioning for Io to come closer as some people had inched forward, hoping to catch a snippet of what they were saying. Io did so and lowered his voice. He pointed at the photo of Rick and muttered, 'He was really good at shooting, he has this weird arcing motion to his throws, which threw Morph off even. But he needed me to look pointedly at him when the time wasn't right to pass me the Quaffle.'

'Ah, no good with instinct, and do you raickon it'd be hard to keep a player laike tha' around the team?' He put his hands between his knees and looked at the table, lost in thought.

'I don't know,' he admitted, 'I don't wanna make someone not get in based on something as abstract as instinct.'

'Io is i' abstract to yer, ar do yer think i' would affect 'is performance on the team?' murmured Dirk, 'I'll make the final decision, so don' go feelin' too guilty yeah?'

'It would be hard for me, to be honest.'

'Alrigh', wha' 'bout Martin, is he any good?' Io scratched his chin again and tried to remember the chaser, only able to conjure up bursts of speed and good support of his teammates. He was unmemorable otherwise though.

'Uh, he was good at sprints, and at tactics, to an extent…He was good at supporting the others on the team too, but he seems unmemorable to me. I think Elm was probably the best from my group. But ask Morph just for sure too.'

'Yup, wael do. You still don' know 'bout the other beater?' Io shook his head apologetically, only able to think of the other beater at the mention of a beater. 'Righ', we can figure thais out tomorrow thain.' And with that he gave a flick of his wand, and all the pictures and names disappeared. He took out a large textbook and started reading silently. Io took out his History of Magic textbook and started reading the appropriate chapters on the goblin riots of 1778 in his textbook, seeing as he might as well. Peer pressure, he thought wryly.

After he'd finished reading that, he took out his DADA and charms books and started reading the sections on healing enchantments, making portkeys and summoning charms, in the respective books. Io sat in silence reading the many pages dedicated to the variety of healing charms, especially those against cursed wounds.

He started an essay on the uses of dittany in potion making, but didn't get anywhere. After crumpling three pieces of parchment filled with scribbled out lines, he decided he would do that tomorrow.

He practiced the summoning charms which McIntyre had told them to practice, but after fetching stuff from his room and sending it back, then doing it non-verbally, Io couldn't find anything else to distract himself with.

He packed his books and stood up, as he had noticed Dirk getting distracted at his changes of moods, and the accompanying shuffling. He raised his hand silently at Dirk and walked up the steps to his dorm.


	16. Chapter 16

He got changed wordlessly, and then sunk into his bed, drawing the drapes to avoid any questions from his dorm mates.

Mere minutes after he'd fallen into a somewhat fitful sleep, a loud knock sounded on the door. Io turned over grudgingly, and drew the drapes apart. His heart hammered in his chest as the knocking had rung explosively in his ears; awakening him with a fight reminiscent of those he was so accustomed to when with his family.

He turned to see one of the boys with which he shared the dorm making for the door, the others acknowledging his presence with a nod. Io raised his hand in greeting, managing a tired smile. He was civil with them, but they didn't share more than the occasional greeting. It was also likely that they disliked his affiliation to basically every pure-blooded psycho whom this castle happened to house, whether it be one of friendship or animosity, or the fact that he lost Ravenclaw so many house points on a consistent basis. Io grabbed the blanket which had fallen onto the floor, and threw it back around him. Without another word, he tried to sink back into sleep, a difficult feat considering he had been too lazy to close the drapes. The light now flashed red and yellow pulse across his closed eyelids, and he felt a faint burning sensation across his eyeballs. With a resigned sigh, he got up and made to close the drapes.

Someone was standing in the doorway, eyeing the three boys huddled on the bed farthest from the lone figure who seemed to have been woken mere moments ago by his disturbance. Io couldn't make them out, the light having etched strange circles of yellow, red, blue and black on his eyes. Anticipating the noise that would engulf him when this latest person joined the others, he sighed inwardly, wishing he could go sleep in the Hog's Head. As Io made to shut the drapes, his eyes partly closed, Dirk spoke, stopping him from doing so.

'Jus' sayin' good nigh',' he murmured, having seen Io's expression of distaste as he evidently tried to go back to sleep, 'didn' mean to wake yer.'

Io turned his head to the figure he now recognised at Dirk, squinting against the flood of light. 'Oh sorry Dirk, I didn't realise it was you. It wasn't your fault, my ear's trained to knocks,' he said with a grim smile, his voice hoarse from sleep, 'Goodnight.'

'I'll see yer in the mornin', if yer wouldn' mind joinin' me fer breakfast.'

'The issue of thaim beaters,' he added when Io looked blank, 'I'll remin' yer in the mornin'.'

'Yup, yup will do,' muttered Io, who took his hands off the drapes, no longer wishing to wrench them together the moment Dirk left, his eyes now getting accustomed to the light. He knew it would be hard for him to re-descend into sleep. He suddenly remembered his outburst at Dirk before, 'Oh and sorry about tonight! I didn't realise-

'Ye've already apologise' Io,' reminded Dirk with a chuckle, 'all is forgaiven. Ye've probly just forgo'en. There was no need to apologise anyway,' he added as he caught sight of the three now eyeing the half-asleep Io nastily at the mention of his affront to Dirk, 'yer meant well by it me friend.'

'Oh I did? A-Alright then, well I suppose I'm sorry twice over…' Dirk strode to the door as a huge yawn stretched over Io's face. He was a bit unnerved at the overt coldness of the three boys towards Io. He had heard they weren't close, but they seemed to harbour great dislike for the boy who had done nothing but wake up basically. He looked in through the door as he closed it, feeling slightly guilty as he heard the raucous cheers issuing from Oliver and Morph's dorm, and knowing that he would not be left to sit in an isolated corner when he arrived to his.

Io pulled his drapes together and put his head down, surprised at how easily the will to sleep took over him. As the night whistled and an eerie howling engulfed the castle, his thoughts turned to what Bellatrix had said about Aberforth. _Fiddling with goats_, Io had known that Aberforth had spent a stint in Azkaban for experimenting with charms on goats, but Aberforth had never mentioned anything about it. He wouldn't have been doing any dark magic would he? He couldn't imagine Aberforth practicing dark magic, not him. He was rough around the edges, harsh when you didn't know him well. But he had been the only person to take him in when he was starving on the streets and now treated him as a brother. He was sure that whatever Aberforth had done had merely been a result of his grief over his sister, and who could blame him? He certainly couldn't. It was pondering this last thought that Io Sonorous fell asleep that night, a small smile playing at his lips.

_He strode down to a small, but elaborately furnished room which ostentatiously displayed every sign of being owned by extremely wealthy people. Io's mother ushered for him to sit with an imperiously cold nod of the head. His father said nothing, his face not registering that his son had sat at the chair next to him. They looked nothing like Io; whereas he had long, silky black hair, they had light coloured hair. His mother's was a light brown; his father's almost white in its paleness. Io's amber eyes also contrasted heavily with those of his parents, his seemed almost to be fashioned of molten gold, and held within them a myriad of steady emotion, not towards those sitting by him, that much was clear. His parents' eyes were icy, not only in their demeanour, but in their pale blue colour. Io's face was not pointed and sharp like his father's, its lines gently sloped, his features delicate, as if carved from marble, whether from his youth or otherwise. His colour also betrayed the difference his father so suspected, he had a golden undertone to his skin, a tan, if you will. His parents, of course, were both pale as the porcelain on which a small house elf with orb-like black eyes served their tea. Io turned his head cautiously at the wizard sitting across from him, scrutinising him, not unkindly, over his half-moon glasses. The wizard had a beautiful white beard, which almost reached his waist. Io wondered, for the umpteenth time, how he managed to keep it clean. His twinkling blue eyes did not release the boy's gaze as he scrutinised him, instead, his kind features stretched into a smile in an attempt to reassure the evidently unnerved boy. Io nodded his head and averted his gaze after some time had passed. He knew why he was here, and did_n't_ want the strange wizard to announce what he had long suspected. _

'_Well Dumbledore,' uttered his father coldly, 'you said you could prove that this child is my son. I hope you will stick to your oath.'_

_Dumbledore turned his head at the man who seemed eager to be rid of the child he had long suspected was not his, nor of his race. His wife tensed up next to him, a glimmer of concern for the boy whose expression had fallen at his mention crossing her eyes for a millisecond. When her husband turned to her however, that glimmer was long gone, instead replaced by a look of deep disgust. When the boy turned his gaze to look at his parents that expression was what he was met with. Dumbledore forced his voice into one of geniality and spoke, his eyes falling on the two beings in front of him._

'_I shall, of course, Sonorous, keep my oath. I have brought with me a potion that will cause Io to glow green, if he is indeed not your son.' The boy had flinched slightly at being addressed by his name, his eyes narrowing slightly in anticipation of what would happen when he took the potion. His father's face broke into a victorious grin, the likes of which Io couldn't look at. He instead focussed his gaze solemnly to a spot above Dumbledore's head, wishing whoever it was that had abandoned him to his fate would choose this moment to materialise. Dumbledore waited until the boy had looked at him, then drew a small bottle from his silken dark blue robes. He wordlessly handed it to Io, who took it silently. Io sombrely put the bottle to his lips and heaved an internal sigh. He gulped down the potion, seeing no escape from what was to happen. _

_When he set the empty bottle on the table, he could feel his father's piercing gaze on him. He trained his eye on his open palm, awaiting the glow of green that would undeniably herald the beginning of ample chaos. When nothing happened after a few moments, Ameritius Sonorous turned his face slowly to Dumbledore. Io's insides clenched like a fist, it seemed whether the potion proved anything -or didn't- that man wanted him gone. _

'_What,' he spoke slowly, the anger rising in his voice with every deliberately enunciated syllable, 'is the meaning of this Dumbledore?' _

'_I thought you would've known, my good man,' said Dumbledore genially, 'Io is your son.'_

'_Really? You expect me to believe that?' He roughly clutched Io's shoulder and forced the boy to his feet. Dumbledore half rose in his chair, his face betraying some of his shock for the first time this evening. The boy's face however, betrayed no surprise, merely resignation to this fate. His head was slightly tilted to one side, as though he was imagining an alternate existence. _

'_Look at this boy you claim is my son! Look how tall he is for one,' he spat. Io had to agree, even at his young age, he was merely a head shorter than his already tall father. 'And his eyes, Dumbledore, I've seen an elf walking around that is the spitting,' he spat, evidently fighting to not attack him, 'image of this boy. And. You. Tell. Me. He. Is. Mine!' Io looked at his mother, who had betrayed no sign of emotion during the outburst, and who merely shook her head imperceptibly at the air in front of her. Io made a small noise in the back of his throat as the man's fingers tightened around his shoulder, and closed his eyes at the pain. A moment later, Ameritius had jumped back in pain, as what felt like a lightning bolt shot through him. _

'_You dare boy?' he spat. Io took a step back wearily, knowing what he had accidentally done and hating himself for it. _

'_I didn't mean to, it just happened,' he spoke, his voice low and calm. He knew that there was nothing he could say, but knowing that not saying anything would be viewed as insolence. 'I'm sorry.'_

_Ameritius' face unclenched a fraction as he sensed the boy's unspoken fear and felt Dumbledore's gaze blazing through him from its intensity. Io inclined his head at the father who had seemingly lost all resolve to attack him at this moment in time and took his leave, not looking at his mother as she murmured something to him under her breath. _

_He strode over to where his only friend in this house, the kind house elf Hiro, was silently enduring the torture of a sullen, heavy lidded girl who was visiting for a 'play date' with his equally deranged brother. He hauled the elf into his arms, knowing he had remained silent so as to not worsen whatever hell Io was to endure. Bellatrix looked up at him with venom in her eyes, muttering 'filthy half breed' under her breath as the air around her seemed to contract, making it hard for her to breathe. Io felt Dumbledore's eyes on him, and as he turned to look at the old wizard, he knew, somehow, that he'd intentionally misbrewed the potion to ensure he wouldn't be found out. _

Io awoke in a cold sweat. He sat up, feeling his heart in his throat. It must've been sometime before dawn, the sky was still dark, and the air was heavy with the bitter cold that fell over the castle directly before dawn broke. Taking care so as to not make the door creak, he walked out and stepped quietly down the stairs and over to one of the armchairs, into which he plonked himself. He laid his cheek on the table, the warmth which had built up in his face now slowly effusing into the stone cold table. He felt his breathing return to normal and the biting cold through his t-shirt. Even though his frame shook from the pre-dawn cold, he didn't ponder making that blue fire or going back to bed. He didn't want to go back to sleep, in case he was faced with other such memories.


	17. Chapter 17

He felt that horrible grogginess that takes over after adrenaline pumps through your veins, felt the crushing disappointment and grief that had taken over him that day do so again, and he wished this could've been one of those dreams that you don't remember in the morning.

He felt himself nodding off, and so decided to go for a walk, despite the unusual hour. As the door swung open, he noticed that the sky was gradually lightening now and he smiled to himself at the thought of not having to be asleep in a few hours. His feet took him to the Astronomy tower of their own accord, and as he rose up to the elevated viewing platform, he saw the sunrise over the Hogwarts grounds reflected in the lake below. He felt like jumping into the scene, and as he watched the many creatures of the lake ripple its surface, he felt slightly more cheerful about the day ahead. He saw Hagrid, a tiny speck in the distance, emerge from his hut to do something rather, then disappear into the forbidden forest.

Dirk put his head around the door to Io's door a few hours later, having known that he would probably want to sleep in as he always did. He was surprised then to see his bed empty, the blanket half-sprawled on the ground and his robes untouched. When he asked the three who shared the dorm with him, not expecting an answer, they had replied that 'it'd been like that when we woke up' amid helpful and insightful additions of 'dunno mate, he does that though' and 'too bad'. Frowning, he grabbed Io's robes off the floor and pocketed them, sure that the dunce would need them. He then walked down to breakfast, pondering whether Io had been so eager to not get in any more trouble with him that he had gone down to breakfast early. Xeno walked through the door after him, and as he started to ask him if he had seen Io, the knocker replied in her tinkly voice;

'He left before dawn this morning and didn't come back.'

Dirk turned, stunned at this news, 'And yer naiver though' ter raise the alarm ar somethin'? D' yer know where 'e's gorn off ter?' He thought of his deals with Peeves and the codswallop he was in with Bellatrix at the moment and grimaced.

'I didn't think it wise to tell anyone,' murmured the knocker with the air of one helping a small child understand a difficult concept, 'he seemed very preoccupied.'

Xeno tugged at his robes, quickly thanking Rowena and adding in his dreamy voice that 'Io would most likely have gone to the Astronomy tower; I always bump into him there when I go there when the freshwater plimpies aren't doing their magic.'

Dirk smiled at his companion, who had now launched into an account of the benefits of freshwater plimpies to the mind of any budding wizard. 'And not salt water plimpies either, freshwater,' he pronounced with a significant look at Dirk, who nodded his understanding quickly, grinning at Xeno, 'the high concentration of minerals in the water makes the plimpies dehydrated, and they don't produce their valuable juices as readily.' A group of Hufflepuffs going by laughed profusely at what they proclaimed to be 'Old Xeno's dribble', but Dirk smiled, recalling that one time when he was injured and Xeno had given him essence of myrtlemap, which everyone but Xeno had thought to have no effect. And how wrong they were, he thought, grinning at the wizard now enthusiastically delving into an impromptu speech on the differences of salt and fresh water species' characteristics and how this could translate into innovations in potioneering. Dirk felt Io's robes wriggle out of his pocket and readjusted them, not wanting to lose them otherwise he might be giving his chaser yet another detention to add to his extensive repertoire.

Io ran into his dorm, looking for his robes all over the place, but couldn't find them. Stupid sods've played a trick on me, he thought miserably. Knowing he had to hurry to meet Dirk or he'd be in horseradish, he attempted to summon them, grinning at the irony of the situation. Yes, Professor McIntyre, you _are_ right, they may very well save my life. When nothing happened after a while, he ran back out of the door, ignoring the sound of the knocker calling out after him and running down the stairs to breakfast.

Dirk and Xeno stepped up the stairs to the viewing platform of the Astronomy tower, only to find it deserted. Dirk turned on his heel, a sense of foreboding stealing over him. Then he and Xeno quickened their pace, Xeno no longer talking, instead seeming to be deep in thought, perhaps as to the whereabouts of Io. When they reached the landing of the fourth floor, someone sprinted past them, and Xeno commented lightly, pointing his finger at the back of the mysterious person in a hurry, that it was Io. With a start, Dirk realised he was right. He was still sprinting, apparently so intent on not being late, he had sprinted right past them. Dirk smiled wryly at the dunce and quickened his pace so that they wouldn't miss him.

Io strode into the breakfast hall, on time for perhaps the first time ever. He had never seen the hall so crowded before, and as he sat down, he realised that he was the only one not yet dressed who had come in. Shrugging it off, he ran a hand through his hair and tied it up, trying to make himself more presentable for breakfast. Morph was already at breakfast, sitting alone and serenely cutting up a tomato and buttering his toast. Io sat down opposite, smiling at his precise way of buttering his toast. Morph only went in one direction, and once he reached the end of the toast, he raised his hand and started buttering the next bare bit of toast, so that his toast was evenly buttered. Io reached for a banana, only now realising how hungry he was. Morph, who had been roused by Io as he reached across the table for his banana, looked up, smiling in surprise.

'Mornin','he murmured at the friend who almost never showed up for breakfast, 'how come you're here?'

'Good morning Morph,' grinned Io, 'Dirk wanted me to have breakfast with him and discuss something rather…don't remember. Have you seen him? I'm not late ay?'

'Nah, he hasn't come in yet, and you're not late either. So you guys are alright now?'

Io looked blankly at Morph, last night seeming very long ago. 'Wha-?'

'Uh, you know, the little disagreement,' he said delicately, throwing Io a significant look.

'Ooh, right, yup that's all good. I apologised,' he muttered through a mouthful of banana, smiling at Morph's quiet amusement, 'twice actually. But he said I gotta be here for breakfast, so here I am!'

'For the first time in years,' added Morph with a nod, 'how come you're not dressed though?'

'Oh, I don't know,' murmured Io, gazing at the newspaper clutched in the hands of a bespectacled brown haired girl, the front page featured a large mug shot.

'You don't know,' repeated Morph incredulously. He looked at Io, who was now craning his neck to read the paper, oblivious to the looks he was attracting from the people sitting around them. 'Uh, Io, how do you not know why you're not dressed?' murmured Morph, the amusement evident in his voice. Io turned to him, not missing that grin on his face, then with a laugh, he threw his banana peel across the table at him.

'I don't not-know why I'm not dressed,' he said slowly, with the air of explaining something to someone very dense, 'I don't know where my robes _are_.' Morph mimed chucking the peel back at Io, at which point he merely wiggled his eyebrows and reached for another banana, shovelling it into his mouth in two bites.

'Have you looked on your floor-drobe?' inquired Morph sarcastically, his grin widening at Io. Io looked at him, stunned, for a few moments, and then started laughing raucously, the sound being muffled somewhat by his mouthful of banana. He leaned over, trying to control his laughing and stop the banana mush from falling out of his mouth.

Morph had collapsed into laughter at the looks of disgust Io was attracting, not the least potent of which was coming from the girl with newspaper. Her jaw had basically dropped to her knees and she was eyeing the boy, who she had seemingly been trying to act hard-to-get for before, in sheer shock.

Io looked across at Morph and started laughing even more, the banana tumbling through his mouth and pushing against his hands, his eyes streaming. Morph quickly used a vanishing charm on the banana coming out of Io's mouth, having to resort to doing it non-verbally as he was now doubled over laughing and couldn't control his wand. Io looked surprised to not have the banana in his mouth and now his laughter was un-muffled, ringing around the hall. Morph jokingly offered him another banana, his whole frame shaking in silent laughter, then ripped it back as Io made to grab it. Io too, shook with silent laughter; his face now soaked, completely oblivious to everyone, and tried to compose himself. Morph had done so, and they were deliberately avoiding catching one another's eye. Accidentally, Morph looked at Io, who seemed to be straining to lay a Quaffle sized egg, and snorted loudly, only to launch the both of them back into a fit of laughter.

Xeno and Dirk, who had finally witnessed what happens when Sonorous actually shows up to breakfast, were standing and staring at the blibbering idiot who had been trying to be a banana fountain. Xeno had joined in with the laughter, finding the whole affair amusing, while Dirk was painfully aware that Flitwick seemed to be gagging into his porridge. Xeno sat down next to Io, and muttered something about 'pintenelly fairies' to Dirk, by way of explanation of their behaviour.

Io looked across and saw Xeno sitting next to him, grabbing at the air around his head. Morph had raised his hand in a silent greeting, steadying himself and greeting the two newcomers. Io was also trying to control his laughter, and was gripping the table, head bowed, shoulders shaking.

'Mornin' guys, sorry about that,' murmured Morph, his voice hoarse from all the laughter, 'we couldn't help it.' The same was not to be said for Io, who could evidently _still_ not help it.

'No worries,' said Xeno breezily, waving his arms above his head, 'I can feel pintenelly fairies around, they're making you guys laugh.' Io snorted loudly and accidentally banged his face into the table at Xeno's explanation, and Morph's mouth twitched violently. He breathed deeply, trying to not look at his overcome friend. He turned to Dirk, who was sitting next to him, eyeing Io with his eyebrows hitched to the maximum. A small grin seemed to be tugging at his lips also.

'Mornin' Dirk,' he murmured quietly, his voice steadying now, 'how's it?'

'No' bad,' muttered Dirk, 'I woke up and ha' ter look fer thais twit,' he motioned the boy who was now wiping his eyes on the sleeves of his t-shirt and breathing very deeply, head still bowed.

'You had to look for him? He didn't mention anything bout that,' murmured Morph seriously, now also training his eyes on Io's bowed head.

'No he wouldn't 'ave, Rowena said that he'd laift before dawn, didn' say where 'e was going apparen'ly.' Morph turned to the now under control Io, who was reaching for another banana, ignoring their looks of mingled curiosity and hilarity. He raised his head at Xeno and clapped him on the back genially.

'Morning Xeno! How's your morning been?' he said happily, grinning at Xeno's serene expression.

'Oh, it's been good,' murmured Xeno dreamily, 'apart from the pintenelly fairies that is, and you disappearing.'

'Hahah, yeah well, we're all over the fair-, wait, what? Me disappearing?' Io looked at Xeno, not sure what he meant, he turned to Morph, only now realising Dirk was sitting next to him. Before he could say anything, Dirk interrupted.

'Yeah, yer disappearin', Rowena told us yaid laift before dawn, ter go somewhere, paren'ly didn' stop yer cause yer looked 'preoccupaid'' He eyed Io intently, hoping he hadn't done any deals with Peeves again. Io had been frowning at them, not sure what they were on about, when it dawned on him and he made a big 'O' with his mouth. He grinned at Morph, who merely gave him a quizzical look, unsure why he would go out by himself before dawn when they all knew Bellatrix wanted to do him in.

'I couldn't sleep, I woke up all of a sudden, so I went to the Astronomy tower,' he said simply, eyeing Morph and Dirk as they exchanged a significant look. Dirk's lips had stretched grimly into a thin line. Morph looked…scared? Io turned his head to Xeno, giving him a bemused look; unsure what'd gotten into the other two, only to see Xeno looking similarly worried. He put down the banana he had been about to peel slowly and turned so he could see all three at once.

'What?' he muttered irately.

'Yer don' know wha' Sonorous?' growled Dirk, cocking an eyebrow at the dunce, 'yer almos' got jinxed by her a coupl' o' days ago and yer say wha'. Yer talk to 'im Morph, I'm no' sure I can penetra' 'his skull,' said Dirk. Morph complied with a nod, still looking worried.

'Bellatrix tried her best to jinx you a few days ago, she still has it in for you, and you're walking around the castle.'

'Bellatrix?' muttered Io incredulously, 'honestly I can handle _Bellatrix_,' he spat the name out venomously, remembering his memory, 'and I needed the walk, I would've jumped out the window otherwise,' he murmured distractedly as he held the gaze of the very girl they were speaking of. She threw Io a poisonous look, slowly and deliberately giving him a middle fingered salute. Xeno raised his eyebrows at her, aware that she was trying to wind Io up. He put his hand firmly on Io's shoulder, but he needn't have worried, Io merely smirked at her and contemplated returning her salute. Xeno had done so for him however, waving his middle finger like a conductor's baton, bobbing his head cheerily and catching Io's eye. Io chuckled at him, knowing he was trying to reel in any anger that may be building, and succeeding. He gave him a grateful smile as the other two turned and looked at the source of their attention.

'Honestly Io, just tone it down,' murmured Morph when he had seen it was Bellatrix, 'I know you guys have a long history, but just don't wind her up. And for god's sake don't go walking around at night alone.'

'It would also do to not jump out of the window,' murmured Xeno seriously, knowing that Io may have not been exaggerating, 'I know those people in your dorm are…_unyielding_,' he said, accentuating the word gently, 'but you can always come and talk to me, the people in my dorm don't talk to me either.' Io's eyes widened at this piece of information and he gazed at Xeno, saddened for the wizard next to him who people disregarded, and angered at the same time.

'Yeah, I will,' said Io, his voice filled with a fierce pride, 'you're way cooler than most of the dumb sods here Xeno, it's their loss! I like hanging out with you!' Xeno's smile widened, he had been under the impression that Io thought some of his stuff was weird and so didn't really like him. Io grinned and raised both his thumbs in a double thumbs-up goofily.

'And we can both go to the Astronomy tower together,' murmured Xeno, knowing that Io would go anyway, wanting to offer him a realistic alternative, 'just tell someone before you leave.' Morph nodded his agreement and Dirk followed suit reluctantly, knowing that Io wouldn't listen to them if they told him to stay put.

'It was just last night anyway,' assured Io, 'bad dream. It won't happen again.' He said, now peeling his banana and gazing across the room at Bellatrix from under his eyelids.

Morph stared at Io as he apparently scrutinised his robes, sure that whatever had happened last night, it had something to do with Bellatrix. He kept throwing covert glances at her, Morph only noticing because he was inspecting him. He turned his head to Dirk, who understood it as a plea to distract Io. Suddenly remembering the robes, he pushed them across to Io across the table, grinning as he looked up at him quizzically.

'I took yer robes 'cause I figured yer'd forgo'en thaim.' He explained apologetically, assuming that he had gone back to his room to get his robes and not found them.

'Oh, that's why they weren't there then, thanks Dirk! I figured someone was playing a trick on me.'

'Also,' murmured Dirk, waiting until Io looked up again before he continued, 'I said I'd laike ter talk ter yer bout thaim beaters. Since yer here too Morph, we maight as wael.'

'But I don't know what other beater to pick,' murmured Io, 'I already told you.' He frowned slightly at Dirk, unsure as to why he was asking again.

'Well, that girl that bumped you off your broom was amazing… what about her?'

'We alraidy decided on tha' one, the problem's the other one.'

'Oh, so you want us to decide who the other beater should be?'

'Yup,' murmured Dirk.

'And another chaser,' added Io, turning to Morph hopefully, 'who do you reckon flew the best?'

'The girl Elm, on your team was a standout,' he murmured, scratching his chin, 'I had a challenge on my hands stopping her Quaffles… Rick on your team had a real interesting arcing motion as well; I think it's between them two.' Io had not said anything, but was now pondering who he would choose between them if having to choose. Rick's lack of intuition could be potentially problematic, but he had excellent Quaffle handling skills, and was a keen shot. Elm, on the other hand, was very good intuitively, flew very quickly, and was an overall excellent team player. Io was even pondering whether he should resign and tell Dirk to put them two on. It felt like they'd gone back to square one, and as he caught Dirk's eye, he knew he was thinking exactly the same thing.

'Wha' bout thaim chaisers on Melody's team?'

'They weren't anything special to be honest; Mel was scoring all by herself, whereas Io didn't score for his team once. And not out of inability to do so,' he added quickly, to ensure that Dirk didn't misunderstand him. At that, Dirk laughed briefly, giving Morph an amused grin.

''Course I know tha' Morph, but good on yer fer tha'.' Io grinned gratefully at his friend, relishing in the fact that even though he hadn't beaten Melody's team, by a margin of one goal mind you, he had fulfilled Dirk's criteria, _don't hog the Quaffle_.

'So it's between the two on your team Io,' murmured Morph, sensing that this was the answer his friend had dreaded. Io threw his fringe over his face and smoothed it back slowly just for something to do, then looked up at Dirk. 'You wouldn't mind having another try-out exclusively for those two? And we can all judge them?' Dirk scratched the stubble on his chin quietly, pondering whether he could spare the time, he turned to Io.

'And yer doin' thais cause yer unsure,' he murmured, holding Io's gaze unwaveringly, 'or cause yer don' want ter let someone go if they did wael?' Io himself looked uncertain as to the answer of that question.

'I don't know to be honest, I wish I could just smush them both together!' he replied in frustration. 'Who do you think did better?'

'I'll tell yer, but I'd laike us all ter write it down on a strip of parchment,' he said, handing them each a bit, he then reached into a small pouch and drew out two quills. Io stared at the pouch and a thought hit him, _undetectable extension charm_.

They had already written down the name they'd chosen and Dirk clicked his fingers gently at the chaser who had taken to gawking at his _pouch_ to delay his decision. Io snapped out of it, heaved an unconscious sigh, then decided to write down the one who would do the best out on the team.

Dirk held out his hand to both of them, and wordlessly took their scraps of paper. He held the first up, it read;

Elm

He then held up the second, which read;

Rick

Io heaved a sigh at the irony. 'Bugger,' he muttered sourly. His would be the tie breaker.

Dirk held up the last one, eyeing Io mildly, it read, as Io already knew it would;

Elm

'Tha' said,' he assured a downtrodden Io, 'it's no' yet sait in concre'e. Howaiver, we do need ter sor' ou' thaim beaters also.' Morph tried to remember, but he couldn't think up any of them. Dirk nodded grimly.

'I gaiss I'll just have ter call try outs fer thaim beaters again, yer all in?' They nodded quickly, Io looking relived that they'd sorted it out. He had a feeling Melody wouldn't be too happy they'd made the decision without her, though.

'What've I got d'you know Morph?'

'Uh, me and Ollie have got Arithmancy, so you've got a free, then we have Herbology together, then you have double potions, then DADA.' Io grinned in relief, glad that he would be able to go up and clean himself up. He sniffed his t-shirt and realised he smelt slightly. He grinned apologetically at Xeno, who had looked across at him in surprise.

'Sorry Xeno, didn't realise I stunk.'

'I can't smell anything,' he assured peacefully; 'I can't smell you. You must have an acute sense of smell.'

Chuckling, Io stood up and waved goodbye to the three of them, making for the door.

A few minutes later, he was back in his deserted dorm, having had a hot shower and smelling alright now. He knew it wouldn't matter much after Herbology, but it had woken him up anyway. He lazed around the deserted common room, not seeing anyone around. He stretched himself on one of the sofas in front of the fireplace, staring blankly at the ceiling. The girl whose newspaper he'd been trying to read at breakfast walked in, took one look at him gazing happily at the ceiling, and raced up to her dorm with an affronted look.

As he lay there, one of the distinctive royal blue paper planes fell in his lap. Io quickly grabbed it and read it.

Hey Io,

I'm only free tomorrow night, so if you are able to, please come along for the beaters' try outs. Also, I couldn't judge whether you were okay with the decision on Elm as chaser. If you still want try outs for chasers too, I can arrange that, but I will need your response very soon. Just write on the back of this and it will find me.

Dirk

Io ran up the steps to his dorm, formulating his answer as he did so. He then grabbed a quill from his trunk. Quickly, he scribbled the answer on the back of the paper.

Hey Dirk,

Yup, I can definitely make it tomorrow night. I'm alright with the decision, I was unsure before, but now I think that it's the right one.

Io

He took his quill off the page and nothing happened. He reread Dirk's letter, hoping it would give him a clue. He wasn't familiar with this sort of magic, the only one who had ever made things like these, that he knew of, was Dirk. Feeling foolish he muttered, 'Uh, can you please find Dirk and give this to him for me?' To his surprise, the paper folded itself into a plane and then took off.


	18. Chapter 18

Half an hour later, he was striding through the grounds, the warm air buffeting him forwards as he made his way to the large green houses where they had Herbology. Even though he was quite a distance away, he could see them in the distance. There were four of them, each an enormous transparent bubble filled with the most bizarre and awe inspiring creepers, shrubs, gigantic trees and plants which looked like animals, all swaying slightly as the thick, humid air inside circulated sluggishly. As he reached the greenhouse allocated to the fifth years, the OWLs greenhouse, he took his shoes off, instead donning protective steel toe boots and thick dragon hide gloves, and strode inside. Most of his class were already assembled around a long rectangular table immersed amidst the myriad of shrubs, herbs, insects and small magical creatures flitting around.

He made his way over to an ash-blonde haired boy of medium height, who he suspected to be Oliver, the thick haze of the green house making him unable to discern his friend with certainty. As he traversed over to where he was standing, it became obvious that it _was _him. He had already donned the harnesses which Professor Sprout had discovered when working alongside Japanese Herbologists, and was busy preparing a pot in which he would place the mandrake they were about to uproot. The harness looked like a long, continuous rope, which wove around the shoulders of the wearer, and tied around their back, holding the sleeves of their Herbology robes in position so they wouldn't slip. Io put his on and placed the enchanted earmuffs on his ears, knowing they would definitely be of use. He then turned and started preparing a pot for his mandrake as well. He raised a hand in silent greeting to his friend, knowing he wouldn't be able to hear him anyway.

The others soon joined them, Professor Sprout resorting to writing their instructions on the board, as they had all donned the protective earmuffs to prevent the deathly shrieks of the mandrakes of being heard by them. If they heard the shrieks, they would die, simply. Therefore, the instructions warned them to quickly and methodically pull out the mandrakes, and re-pot them. Although seemingly simple, it was a much harder feat to execute. The 'plants' they were re-potting were more like naked, green, particularly ugly, babies, who threw violently rigorous temper tantrums upon being unearthed. Io's mandrake attempted to pull his earmuffs off him, Oliver's content to merely try gouging his eyes out.

After an immense struggle with the cursed thing, he managed to haul it into its container, and put it in the pot he had prepared. He then quickly poured more earth on it, and on Professor Sprout's enthused gesturing and pointing at the fertiliser, he added some of that also. He then joined a struggling Morph with his incredibly temperamental mandrake, and eventually they succeeded in re-potting the devil, having needed Oliver to join in with the struggle. After having re-potted them, Professor Sprout set them about extracting the juices released by the adult mandrakes, which she explained, after everyone had taken off their earmuffs, were prised by potioneers for their healing and alchemical properties.

Io grabbed a handful of the soil in which his mandrake had been mere minutes ago, and set about extracting the juices. First, he placed the handful on a thick, concave watch glass. Then he added a generous aliquot of essence of Nyctimene onto the soil. Immediately, a gentle smoking started effusing from the soil, and he hurriedly placed an inverted jar over it, collecting the vapours. He then quickly stoppered the bottle, and placed it in a small tub of cold water, which Professor Sprout had placed in front of him.

Knowing he must wait ten minutes for his fumes to condense, he turned around and leaned against the table, gazing upwards at the immense jungle of plants which surrounded them, from where he stood, he couldn't imagine there being a ceiling, nor a sky above him. It was an immense curtain of green, orange, red, brown and purple, all warm, sultry colours adding to the musty humidity which crept over the back of his neck. Herbology was by far his favourite subject, it was…therapeutic, almost. The smells, the haze, which meant you didn't have to place any facades on when your day wasn't going so well, the earthiness of the smells. With a start, he realised that most of the smells he had smelled in the Amortentia were to be found here, traceable yet still obscure. Smiling to himself, he turned around and extracted his jar from the tub of cold water, and proceeded onto the next step. A faintly orange precipitate had accumulated in the bottom of his jar, sinking to the bottom of the silvery liquid which he sought. Unstopping the bottle with one hand and reaching for a straining cloth with another, he read the following step from the board. _Strain your liquid quickly, keep the precipitate stored in another jar under a layer of freshwater plimpy oil, and then place the liquid into the tub of __hot__ water._

Io strained the liquid, its gluggy consistency slowing its descent into the jar considerably. He drummed his fingers on the table, not wanting to interfere with the perfectly decent job gravity was doing. When all the liquid had finally fallen through, he stopped that jar, and scooped the precipitate from the straining cloth with a miniature spade. He then dropped the orangey gunk into a small jar, and poured the plimpy oil over it. Thinking of Xeno and his love of freshwater plimpies, he grinned to himself.

The last step involved maturing the liquid under the leaves of an urnsill shrub, which mandrakes depended on for growth, as did their liquids by the sounds of it. He grabbed the liquid, placed it in a small dragon heartstring bag, and covered the opening with leaves. He presented his work to Professor Sprout, who clasped her earth encrusted hands together and nodded up at him, her earth coloured fringe bobbing. 'Well done Mr Sonorous, ten points to Ravenclaw for your efforts! You may clean up and leave my dear.' He thanked her quickly and returned to his bench, proceeding to clean the straining cloth, spades and workspace. He then scooped the soil from the pot the mandrake had been evicted from, and placed it in a bucket labelled 'left over mandrake soil', then placed his urnsill shrub back under the skirt of the giant everlast whose silvery leaves brushed the top of the domed ceiling. He then took off the harness from around his shoulders and patiently waited for his friends to finish their extractions.

When they had all finished, they quickly tossed their steel toe boots and dragon hide gloves in the storage trunk by the entrance to the greenhouse. They walked back slowly to the castle, Morph and Oliver having been dreading going back to divination, where Trelawney seemed to think they all had 'grave danger' in their futures. Io strode along with them, intently reassuring them that Trelawney was a crazy fraud. He walked them until the flimsy ladder which lead up to Trelawney's class or the sickly sweet scented Seer sauna as he liked to call it, despite the long detour from his potions class.

When he cautiously opened the door to potions and strode inside to a packed room, he was cheerily greeted by Slughorn, who motioned for him to sit down, adding, when he made a move to apologise for his lateness. 'No worries my dear boy, Alicia told me what happened.'

Io smiled gratefully at Slughorn, and only when he'd turned his back to him, did he throw a quizzical glance at the dark haired Hufflepuff who sometimes sat beside him. Her black hair was short and spiky and her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. She was pretending to be engrossed copying notes on the drought of the living dead from the board. As he sat down and took out his notebook and quill however, she started murmuring under her breath. 'So I tell Slughorn that you had to confer with Xeno about your wound hurting, from where Bellatrix jinxed you-he doesn't know she didn't actually jinx you- and told him you two were fetching some essence of myrtle map,' she sniggered quietly, 'and he launches into an account of how smart and before his time Xeno is, how _no one _had anticipated myrtle map would have any effect on wounds, and how he wants to invite him to a _Slug Club _Christmas party.' Io grinned at their genial Professor, now clasping his hands together and attempting to lure an intently scribbling Severus into speech.

Potions passed in a blur of scribbling, muttering under their breaths. Alicia was telling him about how he holidays had gone, as he hadn't seen her since school had started. Due to a glitch in her timetable, she had to have potions with this class once a week; however, her normal class was different to Io's. After the first hour had passed, they set about preparing for their next Potions lesson, by brewing the very essence of Nyctimene they had used to extract their mandrake juices this morning. Io set up his cauldron, Alicia set about chopping their roots finely as he started to light the fire to a medium heat. They would be working in pairs together, which took the edge off of the slightly intimidating air that Potions always harboured with him.

After adding 3 quarts of liver beet oil, three grams of desiccated beetle eyes, and a scoop of ornytus powder, Io pointed his wand at the flames, and silently lowered the temperature as was required. After a few more minutes of brewing, they added a meagre splash of knarl tears, and started stirring in an anticlockwise direction. Alicia too, had read of the particle integration theory, and so, after every seven anticlockwise stirs, she would add a clockwise one. After another half an hour, they had succeeded in brewing the pale blue liquid, although their faces were covered in generous amounts of soot and they smelt of burnt liver beet oil. They left the Potions room amid calls from a cheery Slughorn to send his word to Xeno.

They walked slowly to their classes, Io trying to erase the soot that was on Alicia's face upon her request. They walked along, both performing the scourgify charm on one another, pink bubbles erupting on both of their faces. It must've been quite a funny sight, for many people were pointing and giggling. Alicia laughed along, cheekily telling a few people that she would hand them out photos since they looked like they wanted them.

When Io arrived outside of Professor McIntyre's classroom on the third floor, he was already standing outside his door, eyeing his class serenely, awaiting complete silence to fall good naturedly. When it did, he ushered them inside, once again elegantly holding open the door till the last of them filed in, and then closed the door behind him as he followed them in. He strode over to his desk and sat down behind it, laced his fingers together, then turned his attention on the already settled in class.

'Good afternoon everyone, I trust you remember what we will be doing today. I will, however, reiterate, as I must in order to explain what follows. Today we will be practicing healing charms first, on a dummy which I have enchanted to be able to register whether a charm was correctly employed, or not. Next, we will be making portkeys, from an array of mundane objects Filch very kindly gave me.'

He stood up and quickly disappeared into what looked to be a shallow cupboard, and come out with an armful of dummies, which he proceeded to hand out. 'You will be working in groups of four, as the number of dummies dictates we do so, I trust you are all able to share. Before you start on healing the 'wounds' of these dummies, I wish that each of you summons one of the keys behind me,' and as he said so, many keys appeared on the wall behind him, seemingly hovering there. 'If you would please stand, I will shrink all of the tables to allow us room to work, the other classroom is currently occupied.'

At a flick of his wand, the tables shrunk to the size of teacups and stacked themselves upon each other, leaving the class with ample floor space. Io raised his wand and summoned the key silently, at which it zoomed into his open palm. Morph's, Lily's and Severus' did so also, and their dummy immediately displayed 'wounds'.

'The key outlining which wound is which is here,' at that, a description and photo of each wound appeared on the black board, 'I trust you can recognise the different wounds from your readings.'

Io turned to the arm of their dummy, which had a string of interconnected x's, 'xxxxxxx', across the upper portion. On the blackboard was a picture of what looked like a werewolf bite. It was black and deep, and although it looked like it was old, it didn't seem to have healed at all. Moreover, it was oozing the distinctive green puss that cursed wounds do. Io pointed it out to the others as one which could not be healed, so they left it.

They set about identifying the other wounds, and curing them, then checked with McIntyre, who quickly asserted they'd been correct, then instructed them to pick an object each, then form a portkey to the place he had written on their strip of paper. Io looked at his, which read; _Manchester Road_, and set about trying to visualise the place while muttering 'Portus,' in his head. Moments later, his carpet slipper started glowing blue and vibrating violently. McIntyre leaned down to scrutinise the portkey, muttering an incoherent incantation. An image of what he knew to be Manchester Road appeared from the slipper, and McIntyre clapped him on the back and pronounced that he was 'all good to go'.

'Well everyone,' announced McIntyre sunnily after the whole class had succeeded in doing all the charms, 'I hope to see you all well and ready next time. Till then, please read up on the sections concerning boggarts, hippogriffs, grindelows and dragons.'

Io quickly packed up and started heading off to Charms, striding along quickly to get to Flitwick's classroom, which was situated near the Ravenclaw common room. On the way, he ran into Remus, who looked peaky as he often did, but greeted him warmly. As they got nearer to Charms however, Io allowing Remus silence as he looked quite sickly, McGonagall appeared from behind them.


	19. Chapter 19

Her lips pressed in a thin line, and she held her palm up, motioning for the both of them to stop. They did so almost immediately, not mistaking the quiet rage which emanated from her.

'Mr. Lupin,' she addressed Remus, 'please continue on your way and kindly tell Professor Flitwick that Mr Sonorous will be late and send my apologies for any inconvenience to him.' She did not speak further word to either of them until Remus had started to walk off, after throwing Io a worried glance. After he had disappeared into the crowd, McGonagall spoke once again. 'Follow me please Sonorous.'

Io silently followed her, not wanting to further anger her by saying anything stupid. He heaved a grand sigh, suspecting he knew what this was about. McGonagall was leading him up to the very corridor he had met Peeves last night, and he realised this must be the southern wall of the fifth floor, to which he had never before ventured. As they continued walking along, Io became aware that his feet were making light splashing noises. When he looked down, there was a thin coating of water on the floor. As they walked further along, the water started coming up to their ankles, then they were wading in it.

Still, he said nothing, silently following McGonagall along, wondering what his punishment would be this time. Hopefully she would give him detention tonight, since he had already told Dirk he'd come, and didn't want to have to explain to the team why he couldn't come. Finally, McGonagall opened up the door to a room and stood back as a torrent of foetid water rushed out. Inside, Io could see Peeves had let loose a flood of dung bombs. Viscous strings of dung hung from the ceiling like stalactites, and the walls seemed to have been coated in explosive diarrhoea. On the wall directly opposite them, what looked like the scrawl of a two year old read;

You Stink Bloody Baron, see how you like this. Peeevesy hates you dumb sod.

Io stared at the wall, trying to supress the grin that was making his face twitch uncontrollably. He realised that this must be the place the Bloody Baron haunted. McGonagall turned to him at last, having sensed his amusement. Her voice, when she spoke, was frighteningly wrathful.

'The Bloody Baron,' she started, her lips barely stretching from the austere line into which she's pressed them, 'informed me of a most curious occurrence. Have you any idea what I may be referring to Sonorous?' Io tried to hold the cold gaze which pierced through him, but looked at the floor instead. A resigned voice in his head told him it might be better to admit to it; no other being in the castle would help Peeves ever. Io was his only friend. He sighed quietly and raised his head to face McGonagall's quiet rage.

'I think I might have an inkling Professor,' he murmured, his voice barely audible. McGonagall's expression seemed to lose an iota of its fierceness at what he said, however, she still looked incredibly livid.

'The Bloody Baron reported to me that while he was in this very room, someone started defiling his room and throwing the artillery of dung bombs he'd confiscated off Peeves around in this manner. He also says it appeared as though Peeves was under the impression,' and here she paused, a muscle in her jaw tightening, he could hear her teeth grind from sheer incredulity and rage, 'that he was _disillusioned_. I of course, assured the Baron, that _no one_ in their _right mind_ would do such a thing, until I witnessed said disillusioned Peeves myself.' Io made no move to explain, having known that he was dead the moment he had called out those fateful words; 'I can make you invisible!'

McGonagall was staring at him, apparently having lost her capacity for speech. However she quickly regained that ability, as she whispered the last sentence, 'Have you _anything_ to say for yourself Sonorous?' She eyed the boy who had seemingly lost the will to say anything in his defence, which was very unusual for him. 'Well…?' she added in a less piercing tone.

'Uh, no Professor, I knew I shouldn't have done that the moment I said it to Peeves, I-I just had to…I needed his help.' Io stared dejectedly at his feet, anticipating this would be worth at least 50 points from Ravenclaw. He had been right about having his head on a stake outside of the common room, he just hadn't anticipated there would be so many people lining up to do the honours. McGonagall coughed to catch his attention and then spoke quietly, despite the fact that the floor was deserted.

'You will come to my office tonight Sonorous, and then you and Peeves; will clean this room, after checking in with me, _without magic_. Are we clear?'

'Yes Professor,' he murmured, not daring betray the flicker of joy he felt at being let off so easily, 'Uh when should I come to your office?'

'Kindly bring yourself to my office at 7 o'clock, sharp. Now, I will take you back to Filius. Hurry now.'

Io followed her silently, feeling that she had let him off gently, but knowing that next time, she wouldn't be so lenient. As the water level began to lower, he realised how soaked his robes had become. Without the buoyancy of the water, they dragged along the floor, making it harder than usual to walk in a straight line. McGonagall seemed to not notice this, her stride remaining unaltered. As they reached the door of the Charms classroom however, she silently pointed her wand at his robes, at which they immediately dried, and bade him farewell, reminding him to not be late. Io turned the door knob and entered, bowing his head in apology for being late for the second time today.

When they had endured a long and incredibly dull History of Magic lesson, during which he hadn't been able to stop himself from dozing off, despite Remus half-heartedly nudging him periodically, Io bade Remus farewell and headed back to the Ravenclaw common room. Although he had only told Remus of what had happened, the news of what Peeves had done had spread like wildfire around the school. For some strange reason, he thought wryly, most people had guessed it had something to do with him. The knocker seemed to have changed her questions according to this new piece of news, now asking them in her tinkly voice;

'What is the difference between bad people and the rest of us?'

'Bad people do what others only think of,' he muttered darkly as people started tossing him filthy looks and muttering. Some were talking loudly of going down to check the Ravenclaw hourglass, amidst mutterings of, 'wish he'd been in Slytherin or something.'

'No, Sonorous, that is partly true, but not what I am looking for.' Io turned to her, sighing irately.

'_Bad_ people don't exist, they are simply good people who don't abide by arbitrary societal customs?' It seemed like the sort of nonsensical garble the knocker would expect.

'Perhaps that is the case. I shall let you in anyway, but beware of the sense of rebellion against authority; it is not to be followed.' Morph who had lined up in front of the knocker along him looked across at his dejected friend and shook his head, running a hand past his ear in the universal signal for, 'forget about it, that's hogwash.'


	20. Chapter 20

Io took a seat on one of the couches in front of the fireplace, stretching himself across it. Morph took out his charms textbook and proceeded to fill him in on what Flitwick had covered with his class, which Io assumed would be the same for his class. Morph pointed out helpful tips on the execution of a particularly difficult non-verbal charm, _Phocus_, which could be used to defend the user against killing curses, as well as having a similar effect to the muffliato charm. Half an hour later, Dirk strode in and made his way over to them. He let his bag fall to the floor with a dull thud, then asked Morph to 'scuz alorng' and plonked himself beside him.

He rubbed his hand along his close cropped hair irately, gazing around at the scores of Ravenclaws who as always seemed eager to get angry. Melody walked in and grinned at the group Dirk had narrowed his steely grey eyes at; daring them to voice their thoughts. A brawl would be the perfect excuse for her to take a break from her NEWTs work. Unfortunately for her, Dirk was quite notorious for his short temper, and added to that he was intimidating, what with the multiple piercings and tough guy build, not to mention the fact that he always seemed to be growling. It was not surprising then, that they all averted their gazes. She sat down somewhat dejectedly, aware she'd have to study till dinner time now. Unlike her, Morph however, was blissfully unaware of Melody's plight, curled at Io's feet, his head in a large dusty old volume. Io was also blissfully unaware of this; he was stretched across the sofa, his head lolling off the couch, a charms textbook obscuring his face.

Morph quickly filled in Dirk on what had happened, explaining how he would simply have to clean the room with Peeves, without magic, tonight, but no points would be deducted, nor would he have to go back to detention tomorrow either. Io remained asleep and the two of them sat silently, Morph now reimmersed in her book, and Dirk writing out notes from an open Potions book. Not a soul stirred until they heard the knocker speaking faintly to someone outside, questioning them no doubt. A few moments during which no sound was heard followed, and then a faint murmur cut across the silence, and a tall figure walked through the door. Morph looked over his textbook at the latest arrival, as he had looked up every time someone had walked in during the past thirty minutes, thinking it would be Oliver.

He was therefore surprised to see a tall Slytherin, standing there, appraising the room with the air of having stepped into his own common room. He looked lazily around the room, and when he found the object of his search, he nodded imperiously at Morph to wake Io up, not stepping any further into the room, nor making any sound. Morph stared at the Slytherin who had haughtily gestured for him to wake Io. As Morph took the book off of Io's face and started to rouse him, Dirk turned around, wanting to know the source of the ruckus.

When he turned, he was met with the sight of a tall Slytherin, with spiky platinum hair and piercingly blue eyes. He was standing relaxedly, staring out of one of the windows, seeming incredibly at ease. He had his hands in his pockets and shoulders back, and when he turned to look back to the still asleep Io, nodded as his eyes fell on Dirk. Melody grabbed his wrist as he cocked a brow, muttering under her breath, 'It's Io's brother, just wants a word by the looks of things.'

'Io's brother…?' They looked nothing alike, except perhaps the height. He scrutinised Io for signs of recognising the guy as he made to get up unsteadily off the couch. His eyes, however, were still half closed. Morph gently shook him again, murmuring something unintelligible, at which Io's eyes flew open and he looked past Dirk's head.

Mylas? What the hell was he doing standing in a packed Ravenclaw common room as if he had every right to be there? Upon meeting his brother's eyes, Mylas turned on his heel and walked out the door, and it closed behind him with a snap that rang in his ears.

'What the...,' he croaked, still groggy from sleep. He sat there for a moment, unsure why Mylas would want to talk to him. After a minute, he raised himself reluctantly off the couch and strode out the door where the brother he hadn't talked to in ages had disappeared. His heart thudded in his chest, and he clenched his hand around the wand in his pocket. However, when he emerged from the doorway, Mylas was patiently waiting outside the common room, having waited for his brother to come outside. Io stood next to him quietly, unsure of what you were meant to say to someone you hadn't really talked properly to, for a long time. Mylas turned and looked up at him mildly, amused at how tall his little brother had already grown.

'Io,' he murmured, by way of greeting, 'I can't imagine you would be overly thrilled to see me, however, I would like you to know that what I did over the holidays was not merely because Hiro missed you. I had hoped you wouldn't think so lowly of me.'

Io stared, dumbstruck, at his brother. Mylas had let him into the family home during the holidays the day they'd arrived, having grabbed him before he left king cross and told him to come home with him. He had explained that Hiro was 'acting up', as he was missing Io, and it was starting to 'irritate' him immensely. Io had of course, complied, wanting a warm place to stay and the promise of a hot meal at the end of the night. Io had believed him, thinking his attempts at talking to him were out of sheer boredom, or mere pleasantries. He looked up at his older brother, scrutinising his face in the dying light of the day. His eyes had bluish shadows under them, and a thin crinkle between his eyebrows betrayed that he had been frowning. Io realised with a start that when his parents had arrived, the raucous shouts that issued from Mylas' room were not due to him having 'listened to Hiro' as he had explained, but rather, he had been protesting his father's decision to kick him out again.

Io was unsure as to what to say, so he instead he tried to smile at his brother. His jaw twitched as he did so, and he was sure he must look like he had a nervous tick or something. How do you explain a brother who had never bothered talking to you for six or so years running now showing up out of the blue with this? He was unnerved, but he could also feel a strange eerie happiness filling him at the thought. Mylas continued to smile, perhaps understanding his though process at this moment.

'I-I don't know what to say to be honest,' Io murmured after a long pause, 'this is kind of unexpected.' Mylas merely smiled in reply, knowing that he had always seemed close with Bellatrix, ever disregarding his brother, apparently believing the stories the rest of the family had made about him. Dreadful rumours, he scowled, knowing that would not be much of an excuse for his actions, but aware that his brother seemed incredibly happy at this change of tone.

'Bellatrix had heard news of my defence of you during the holidays,' he continued all of a sudden, knowing Io would've figured out the actual happenings by himself now 'and she knew that I would not allow her to harm you while I was around. I took to tailing you to and from class, and she noticed. So,' he heaved a great sigh, 'she sent word to mother that I was sick, anticipating that she would send me word to come back. She of course did so, and despite my profuse refusal to return, she sent Mulciber to 'drag me back if he had to'.' Io's jaw had dropped as he heard this; so Bellatrix hadn't been issuing empty threats at the end of last year as he'd thought.

'But why?' he asked, gazing at the distasteful expression which had streaked over his brother's pointed features. Mylas smiled wryly back at his obviously bemused brother.

'We all know that dear Bella doesn't like to share her _toys_,' he murmured, smirking at Io. Io chuckled lightly at this, knowing the rest of the story.

'So you told Ollie the counter curse to Sectumsumpra,' he interjected.

'Sectumsumpra and a half dozen others, any spell I knew you wouldn't know of, which was thankfully, not many. Gladly McGonagall intervened before she could do real harm, but believe me, she intended to. And you dousing her with soup,' here he grinned slightly, 'doesn't help her resolve.' Anyway,' he added, 'I saw that you didn't have any robes this morning so I brought you some from Madame Malkin's, I am sure they will fit you, made them six inches taller than mine. It looks like you may not need them, but keep them anyway.'

'Thanks Mylas, I-I never saw this coming to be honest, I thought you believed what they said' Io said, his face falling slightly as he remembered the bitter disappointment he had felt when his brother, who had always stood by him, had shunned him as the murderer of their younger brother.

'I knew for a long time that it wasn't true,' murmured Mylas, his eyes growing cold, 'but I held my tongue. The Blacks would've gladly killed us all if they suspected that we had so much as inkling about Bellatrix's dad having done it. Father would have let them do it out of spite -or pride, take your pick- I suspect he instructed them to do it just so that mother would agree to throw you out... His reasoning must have been that Artemis was already ill.' Io had felt his knees shake, and fought to compose his expression as he realised that his father had ordered the execution of his younger brother, just to be rid of him. After a while, he looked inquisitively at Mylas, wondering if his mother knew this. Mylas, as if reading his mind shook his head, 'she knows that it wasn't you, I told her this summer. But I pretended to not know who it was, for her safety...and mine

As he remembered the night Cygnus Black had killed his brother before his very eyes, and then proceeded to lay the blame on a shocked Io, who would not speak for the next two months, not even to clear his own name. He felt his knees buckle. Mylas steadied his brother who had swayed unsteadily on his feet, and clasped an arm around him, bringing him in a tight embrace. 'I'm sorry Io.' Mylas hid Io's tear soaked face in the crook of his shoulder as the Ravenclaws started filing out of their common room. As the thought of Bellatrix finding out came into his mind, he thought savagely of how he hoped she would. He would gladly spend the rest of his life in Azkaban to kill the hateful scum they called _family_. Io was aware that he would have to let go of his brother soon, to allow him to go down to dinner, and after a few more minutes, he let go of his older brother, his face red and his eyes stinging. Mylas cupped his face in his hands and murmured quietly to him, 'I will not let anyone hurt you. I follow you to and from class, but I use a _disillusionment charm_,' he grinned pointedly at Io, who laughed at the obvious allusion to his situation with Peeves. 'Take care alright?' Io nodded and gave his elder brother a watery grin.

Mylas gazed at his little brother a while longer, then made to stride away, wiping his eyes delicately on the sleeves of his robes. Io stood rooted to the spot, eyeing the receding back of his brother as he loped gracefully down the corridor. As he reached the top of the stairs, he turned to Io, who was still watching him and raised a hand in silent greeting; faint tear tracks making it look like his blue eyes were leaking down his face.

When Mylas disappeared, he turned to the knocker, who opened the door without questioning him. He walked back to the place where his friends sat waiting anxiously for him. Morph noted that Io looked like he had been crying, but didn't look like he was hurt. He pretended to not notice as he rubbed at his eyes and wiped the last tears escaping from his eyes from his face. Melody opened her mouth to ask Io what had happened but was promptly silenced as Dirk looked up from the potions work he was pretending to be immersed in to give her a pointed look. Io didn't notice this as he had his head bowed, smiling to himself as he recalled the events of the past few minutes, aware that his eyes were filling up with tears again. He looked up at the three who were giving him a chance to collect himself and grinned at them wetly.

'I'm alright,' he chuckled, happiness wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his robes, 'I just have hay fever.'

Dirk cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at this lame excuse and Morph chuckled, while Melody's expression of excitement at what she had anticipated to be a gripping story slid off her face.

'Mylas is talking to me again,' he murmured very quietly, his happiness at this piece of news lighting his face up. Morph smiled widely at his friend, Melody however didn't seem to grasp why it would be such a surprise that his _brother_ was talking to him. Dirk saw Melody's cocked eyebrow in his peripheral, having to agree with her expression, however, he kept his face inscrutable. They went back to working, Morph having put his arm around his friend who had taken to staring out the nearest window for the last few minutes, not reaching for the charms book that was still lying on the ground where it had fell when he had gotten up to chase his brother. A few minutes later, Io took himself from under Morph's arm, smiling appreciatively at his friend's silent gesture, and strode up quickly to the dorm, muttering 'gotta write a letter', quickly as he went.


	21. Chapter 21

Once up in his dorms, Io extracted a small piece of parchment from his trunk, and a quill. He quickly scribbled another message to Aberforth.

Hiya Abe;

I won't be able to make it tonight; I have detention with McGonagall for putting this disillusionment charm on Peeves. He's covered the Bloody Baron's haunt in dung, and I gotta clean it manually. Anyway, tell Ari I said hi too, and I'll fill you in on the details tomorrow. But I do have Quidditch again so I'll leave early again.

Io

He turned down the stairs, letter in hand and made to go grab his bag so that he could go to the owlery and send off the letter before he went to McGonagall's office. When he made to get up, Morph looked up inquisitively, and Melody voiced their thoughts.

'Where are you going?' she muttered, looking confused as Io made to head off.

'Oh, I wanna send this letter off to Aberfoth, gotta apologise for…something,' he trailed off, having forgotten they didn't know that they didn't know that the Hog's Head was connected to the school. Dirk raised his head and scrutinised him closely, after a few moments, he held out his open palm.

'Wha..?' inquired Io.

'Gaive me that laitter, I can saind it orf ter Abe,' he murmured.

'Oh right! You can, yeah thanks!' cried Io excitedly, he'd forgotten about that. He quickly handed Dirk the letter. 'Abe's in the Hog's Head, if you can address it to his sitting room?'

'Righ', I can do tha',' muttered Dirk. He then started muttering an incoherent string of enchantments and the parchment glowed and folded into the distinctive plane shape, its colour changing into the characteristic royal blue. He then murmured something to it, and lifted it into the air. It soared gracefully out of the open window then disappeared. Io dropped his bag and smiled appreciatively at Dirk, knowing this meant he had more time to go till he was due at McGonagall's.

When it was twenty minutes to seven, Io made to get up, not wanting to be late for McGonagall. The other three got up, packed their things and left them there. Dirk stretched out silently, and then motioned for Io to lead the way.

'You guys are following me now?' muttered Io, chuckling lightly at the three tailing him. Melody snorted.

'Wouldn't want you getting' hay fever again you see?'

Io shoved her gently, laughing feebly at this latest joke. He knew his excuse was lame, but he couldn't explain the situation without explaining his whole life's story. He'd rather not delve into that at the moment. They walked along in a light hearted mood; Io even felt he was looking forward to detention with Peeves, a wide grin stretching across his face.

When they reached McGonagall's office, they waited till he had gone inside and waited for him to emerge. Peeves came floating along sullenly a few minutes later, opening the door and striding in. They were surprised to see he was not chaperoned by the Bloody Baron, but had come of his own accord. After he had come in, McGonagall poked her head round the door and addressed the three of them.

'Good evening, there will be no need to escort them there, I will be doing so myself,' she nodded kindly at them, 'I will be supervising them also, so I hope your minds are put at ease.'

Morph smiled at the Professor whose eyes were crinkling gently at them and nodded at her. Dirk uttered a quiet 'Thank you Professor,' and Melody bowed her head. Minutes later, they were striding up to the Ravenclaw tower, trying to imagine how Io would be able to clean up the extensive mess without magic. Three floors below them, Io was pondering the same question with slight amusement as he waded through the water again. At least the work he had done cleaning the Hog's Head had prepared him a bit. When they reached the room, it was to a stronger stench, the dung had obviously had time to _mature_. They had scrubbing buckets, squeegees and an assortment of cleaning products and tools from a delighted Filch's cupboard. McGonagall wordlessly took Io's wand, pocketed it and perched herself on the water, seemingly floating there, and started marking a sizeable stack of essays.

Io strode forward through the water, he and Peeves making for the farthest wall. Peeves had already started when Io had reached him, having been able to glide above the surface of the water. Io reached to take the dung off of the walls with the squeegee, following Peeves' technique. He would do the bits below water and within his reach and Peeves would do those places he couldn't reach. After they had squeegeed the manure off, they took their buckets to McGonagall, who promptly cleaned them, and vanished the dung with a flick of her wand. They would then go back and start over. Io chuckled under his breath, catching Peeves' eye as they started to erase his message to the Baron. Peeves gave him a toothy grin and poked his tongue out excitedly, he seemed to be enjoying this task immensely, and Io had to admit, that once he'd gotten over the smell, it was actually quite fun. McGonagall listened to the two chuckling light heartedly as they worked to clean the pungent, steaming manure and allowed herself a private smile at the eccentric pair.

Io then took a cleaning product, spritzed it over the wall, then tossed it to Peeves, who whizzed around quickly, spritzing the uppermost places. After that, they moved to the other walls, and methodically cleaned those too, going to McGonagall periodically to clean their buckets. After a couple of hours, they had almost finished cleaning the walls, and now had to do the ceiling. Peeves hauled Io up, holding him around the waist with one arm, his other arm wiping away dung dextrously, and Io squeegeed the dung methodically into the buckets below. After that, Peeves spritzed the ceiling with cleaning product to freshen the smell, and they then set about finding a way of getting rid of the waist high water. Io turned his head inquisitively at McGonagall who said nothing, wanting to witness him exercise his keen problem solving skills. Io hauled one of the buckets and ran out to the bathrooms directly adjacent to their room quickly. He pulled out what looked like an elongated plastic pipe from Filch's artillery, waving it to Peeves, who understood immediately. Io took a few bits of rope from Filch's trolley, then tied them around one end of the pipe, making the diameter at one end smaller than that of the other. Peeves then ran to position the thinner end of the pipe in the toilets, and called out loudly to Io, 'READY!'

Io then placed his end of the pipe deep into the indoor swamp, and felt the water move through the pipe. He called out to Peeves; 'Any water coming down your end Peevsey?'

'SHITLOADS!' replied Peeves excitedly, at which Io chuckled once more.

Slowly but surely, the water level started receding, and soon, it was only up to their ankles, leaving Io shivering violently as the warmth of the foetid water abandoned him. Peeves quickly grabbed a broom, covered it with an old rag, and started pushing the water towards the bathrooms, with a 'wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee'. Io followed suit, feeling warmed up on the third time coming back to the room to shunt the water back, he was racing Peeves, who was at a distinct disadvantage, as he spent most of his time flying rather than walking. After many more comings and goings, the room was devoid of water, and looked sparkling clean. It smelt good too. Io and Peeves raced out to clear the water from the corridor, which now only provided a slipping hazard. McGonagall watched them with thinly disguised amusement as they raced through the corridor, though she had not asked them to clean it. After four hours of hard _work_, they had finished, both filthy and exhausted, their faces stretched into the most maniacal of grins, Peeves having never looked so happy since she began teaching at Hogwarts.

She stepped forward, handing Io his wand, Io could've sworn there was a hint of a smile there.

'Well done boys, I didn't expect you to do finish the job,' she turned her face to Peeves who was now grinning happily examining his handiwork, head cocked; 'I would like to return to sleep now, so I will leave you two to retire, but I do expect you to make your way over to bed promptly. I do not want to see you in detention again' She grabbed Filch's equipment and quickly vanished them off to his cupboard no doubt.

'Uh, Professor,' started Peeves, his eyes shining mischievously, 'would I be able to fly Io to his common room? It would be safer for him that way,' he muttered, nodding his head enthusiastically at her.

'I think I agree with your reasoning Peeves, you may do so. Goodnight to you both.' She then turned around, heading off to her office on the third floor. Peeves gave Io a warning look, and then firmly grabbed his shoulders, hauling him in the air. Io was prepared for the swooping sensation in his stomach but was even more exhilarated about the flight this time. Not being disillusioned may have had something to do with that. Being able to see his body dangling in thin air like that was slightly disconcerting. Peeves gave a loud whoop as they soared higher, grinning down at Io cheekily. When he set him down, Io shook Peeves' hand, adding genuinely; 'I couldn't have done it without you Peeves!' he straightened up and gave him a proper salute, smiling.

Peeves returned it, and stood waiting, until Io answered the knocker's question. He then turned on his heel and glided away, Io waving at him cheerfully. When he turned to the four people now still waiting for him in the common room, he grinned at their shocked expressions as they eyed him over.

Looking down though, he could understand perfectly. He was soaked up to the shoulders basically, in muck and water. He smelt awful and there was stuff stuck to the back of his neck and his hair. Dirk quickly pointed his wand at him, and immediately, he was engulfed in a storm of bubbles. After that, he pointed his wand at him again-Io now shivering in the wake of the impromptu bubble bath- and his clothes dried immediately, feeling as if they'd been sitting in front of a roaring fire. Io smiled and sat himself down on the ground in front of the actual roaring fire, explaining how he and Peeves had gotten through it, the squeegees, buckets, rags and brooms, and the pipe with the string. Melody kept snorting at various intervals, and at others, she merely stared incredulously. Morph smiled at Io's obvious enjoyment of the task that would've made many others gag uncontrollably, and Oliver collapsed silently into fits of giggles with the snorting Melody. Dirk merely eyed the crazed dunce amusedly, watching as his eyes lit up as he described the concept of continuity, by which he had cleared the water with the pipe.

After answering their questions, he stretched himself on the ground, crossing one leg on the other and closing his weary eyes. He merely grinned at Oliver's reminder about their Transfiguration essay, knowing he would do it sometime later. He worked much better under pressure. As he lay there, Norberta landed on his stomach, pecking his ear gently to rouse her once again sleeping master. After a particularly violent bite, he sat up, rubbing his ear and fixing Norberta with a sulky expression. She merely clicked her beak at him, used to his skulduggery; she imperiously stuck her leg and pointedly tilted her beautiful head at him.

Io summoned the owl treats from his room, and put a few into her beak. He then gently untied the parchment from her leg and unfurled it.

Nice bit of magic, showing off are we? Anyway, hopefully we'll see you tomorrow. And hope your dung cleaning went well. (You and Peeves, you suit, you should give yourselves a name, 'the league of nutty lunatics', or 'we love cleaning dung' or 'we spend our lives in detention', something like that.)

Goodnight.

Abe

Io chuckled at the letter and patted an agitated Norberta consolingly on her head. She nibbled his finger crossly, wanting to command his attention. Apparently she'd rather be with Abe than with him. Io muttered mock-sadly, 'Alright Norberta, I can see you've made your choice. Wait till I give my reply at least.' He turned the parchment over quickly, and grabbed Dirk's quill quickly, throwing him an apologetic look.

It wasn't my bit of magic Abe, it was Dirk's. This is normal for him, he's quite smart. Hahah! I might just call us that! It was a fun detention, McGonagall was in a really good mood, and Peeves took me flying again. See you tomorrow! Norberta wants to come back to you, so I guess we'll both just freeload!

Io

He tied the scroll to Norberta's leg, kissed the tip of her head as she wouldn't move otherwise, unless sure that he wasn't actually sulking. She clicked her beak at him then soared out of the window gracefully, making for Abe's bar once more. Io went back to lying down on the ground, feeling too tired to get up the steps.

'I might just sleep here tonight,' he murmured as he felt his eyes weigh down, so he could hardly keep them half-open for more than a few moments at a time. Morph echoed his sentiment, having now stretched himself along the sofa; his book balanced lopsidedly on the edge, and his blue eyes skimming along blankly. Melody was bundled up in an armchair, reading over a runes essay she'd started and finished while he'd been gone.

'If you guys are,' she murmured, her voice muffled from the quill stuck between her teeth, 'I will too.'

'Me too,' asserted Ollie.

Dirk's quill continued to scratch, as he was still immersed in his transfiguration essay. Knowing how hard NEWTs level study was, they didn't interrupt him, until he raised his head.

'So,' murmured Melody, 'what bout you Dirk?'

'Wha' bout me?' he muttered distractedly, glancing up.

'You joining us in here? We're having a slumber party.' She gave a grin at the boy lying in front of the fire who had already dozed off. When we say slumber party Io, we don't actually mean you snooze.

'A slumber par'y? Yer bein' serias Mael?' he muttered glancing at the clock which now announced it was long past midnight. He would have to wake up early in the morning to arrange the stuff for the try outs, but even he had to admit he couldn't be bothered going up them steps. 'Alrigh' but no talkin' after four o'clorck if we stay up tha' late yeah?'

'Yeah,' mumbled Morph faintly, hardly seeming to have registered what he had said. Give him a few more minutes and he'd be asleep. After an hour or so, Dirk fell asleep in his seat also, leaving Ollie and Mel to carry on valiantly with the 'slumber party.'


	22. Chapter 22

They were all still dozed there when the first Ravenclaws made their way down from the dorms. Oliver and Melody had long ago followed the others into a heavy slumber. None of them had woken up. Despite the fact that the last embers of the fire had died long ago, the warmth of their 'penguin huddle' had settled over them throughout the cold night. Dirk was the first to wake, the steps alerting him to the fact he would have to talk to the various beaters to arrange their try out. He quickly rose, leaving the rest of the bunch to snooze a bit longer. He would wake them when he came back down though, just to make sure they wouldn't sleep in too much. It wouldn't do to have a try-out with no chasers or keeper.

When they had come down from the dorms, having been woken minutes ago by a fuming Dirk, they were confronted with the sight of the captain surrounded by a group of people seemingly crying out in mutiny. It seemed he had just announced who would be playing on the team; Elm and Cleta, the small blonde third year who had blown them away with her beating, and those who wouldn't be, all the others basically. Elm didn't look overly happy; she stood off to one side, patting a friend of hers on his back as he took the news of not being accepted dejectedly, yet without protest. The same was not to be said for others, the would-be chaser who resembled a brick wall was in Dirk's face, yelling loudly and protesting the decision. He sneered across at Elm, pointing at her every so often amidst comments of 'She'll bloody blow away with the wind!', 'I played better, you're favouring people you know Cresswell!' and other similar angry remarks. He seemed to be at the front of an unhappy line of people waiting to make their displeasure known to Dirk. They strode quickly over to them, Morph attempting to reason with the raging dunce. Io stood on the fringe of the chaos, eyeing the wide berthed boar in distaste as he got more and more worked up. As Dirk showed every sign of descending into one of his infamous rages at a particularly strong shove, Io steeped forward hurriedly, placing a hand on the offender's shoulder, reeling him in wordlessly. Morph had moved to pull Dirk back also, but the thunderous look on his face stopped him.

The roaring idiot had now turned on Io, who had pulled him back as he had seemed ready to punch the captain. He momentarily lost his ability for speech, the words seeming to well up in his face, which was getting steadily redder. He then recovered that ability in a fantastic string of barely audible profanities and protests, now pointing a shaking finger at Io, his spit spraying his face. Suddenly, his voice exploded with renewed vigour from his stomach.

'AND HIM! YOU ONLY LET _HIM_ ON CAUSE HE'S YOUR FRIEND! DID YOU SEE HOW HE PLAYED THAT NIGHT? HE DIDN'T SCORE ONCE! CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE LETTING HIM ON! AND HE'D RUDDY WELL BE IN DETENTION ON EVERYDAY WE PLAY OR TRAIN! HE MAKES US LOSE HOUSE POINTS ON PURPOSE!' he stepped closer to Io, staring him down menacingly, at which point he touched his thumb to his forefinger, ready to defend himself against anything he may do. However he had decided to appeal his case to Dirk, and so turned back to him, huffing in rage. His voice was menacingly quiet now, 'He's basically a _Slytherin_, he'd gladly sell all of us out for his pure blood buddies. I noticed he _let _Blackthorn score a few goals last year.' Dirk pointedly wiped the flecks of spit off his face, his eyes boring holes into the idiot who seemed to realise he may have slightly toed the line. When Dirk spoke, Morph looked as though he wished he had gone off to breakfast early. Everyone in the room, apart from the first years, who hadn't witnessed Dirk's legendary temper, was looking petrified.

'Yer raickon thain,' he growled quietly, that same muscle twitching uncontrollably in his jaw, heralding a storm, 'I lait me chaisers back on thais team, 'cause they're me mates, yer blibbering dunce? De yer thaink I'd lait a chaiser on me team tha' laits thaim other teams score orn pairpous? Fer someone yer size, yer showed all the straingth of a petrified pygmy puff, and that,' he spat, scowling at him irately, 'is why yer nort orn thais team orf maine!'

The brick wall fell back, muttering indignantly under his breath, his face gradually losing its colour. He strode away, pushing angrily past the Slytherin fraterniser, muttering an incoherent string of curses at him threateningly as he did so. Io took a covert look at the others waiting in line, many of whom seemed to harbour the same sentiments as the Ravenclaw who had just passed them. A few even clapped him on his back. Io stood there, humming insistently under his breath, wondering when in the name of Merlin's rotten, crusty toenails, he had _ever_ let Blackthorn score. Dirk addressed the others standing in line, a vein now throbbing in his temple.

'If any more of yer dunces thaink I'd lait anyone who challenges me authori'y in orn thais team, yer wrong. I wael _nort_ hold thaim try outs again, me decision is made. If yer dorn't like it, thaire's four walls in 'ere and plenty more aroun' the castle. Haick, I'll gladly hailp yer dunces pound yer thaick skulls inter thaim!'

Morph turned around to share his amusement at Dirk's temper with Io, just in time to see him readjusting the strap of his bag and striding out of the common-room door.


	23. Chapter 23

Io made his way down to breakfast, having decided it would help Dirk reason with people if he wasn't there. So when he arrived in the dining hall, he did so alone. Not caring to search for a face he knew, he made his way over to a free spot. He had glimpsed Mylas sitting at the Slytherin table, but neither of them gave any sign of having registered the other. A few seats down, Bellatrix and her clique of crazed crud were scrutinising the both of them. As he sat down, he could feel their gaze boring holes in the back of his neck, and was glad that he had sat with his back to the Slytherin table. As he reached for his second helping of porridge, having skipped dinner last night and only realising how famished he was upon smelling all the breakfast foods, Melody sat herself next to him.

'Hiya,' she murmured cheerily, reaching for some scrambled eggs.

'Hey,' he replied through a mouthful of porridge, not finding anything else to say. Moments later they were joined by Morph and Ollie. Io wriggled his eyebrows at them, his mouth too full to talk now. Morph sat stiffly in his chair, obviously wanting to talk about the yelling match that had happened upstairs. Io gulped his porridge down quickly and addressed him.

'I don't mind what he said up there,' he murmured, smiling in emphasis, 'I just figured it would be easier for Dirk to deal with it if I left. And I don't really wanna hear it either, won't help me play better.'

'That fou-

'Wait, what? What happened?' cried Melody, unnerved by Morph's expression and Io's enigmatic reply. 'When did this happen?'

Io heaved an inward sigh, feeling her eyes on the side of his poor head. He didn't really feel it was necessary to dwell on it, especially considering many people were now _subtly_ leaning forward, wanting to hear his take on what had happened. Morph had chosen this moment to lapse into his default state of quietness. As he thought of what to say however, Oliver spoke, sounding peeved.

'So this guy, some dude that played on your team on the try outs, real buff and tall, starts shouting down Dirk,' he nodded and added 'I know' as Melody dropped her spoon, 'and tells him that Elm isn't better than him, that he's only picking people he knows well.'

'Bastard, did Dirk punch him then? Is that it? It's okay. We'll tell Flitwick it was self-defence.'

Io chuckled at this plan, and at the assumption it had escalated into a fist fight. In fact, now he thought of it, it was strange, but Dirk almost seemed livid beyond being content to punch the guy. Io made a mental note not to cross him, grinning slightly, and listened to the rest of Ollie's account.

'-Io pulls him back after that, and all of a sudden, he's turned on him and looks like he's gonna attack him or something, then, did he say something to you? Couldn't hear it..'

'Nah, just swore and harped on about some hippogriff dung, 'filthy half-breed,' 'death eater,' same old.' As he said that he glanced at the people sitting around them, 'I don't care what any of them think, I've done my best for this team ever since my first year at Hogwarts and anyone who thinks I'm fraternising with Slytherin is an idiot.'

Melody turned abruptly and pulled the fingers at a group huddled near them, who had collapsed into a torrent of sarcastic mutterings. Morph looked unnerved, knowing that Melody's temper was only second in its fierceness to Dirk's. Io quickly gestured at her to sit, not wanting to stretch any of the Professors' patience. She sat down, muttering very audibly, 'They'll be singing a different tune soon anyway the filthy hypocrites.'

'Anyway,' continued Ollie, 'he says Io's let Blackthorn score... that he'll always be in detention-

-Likely, I'm sorry Io, you better work on that,' muttered Melody, sniggering.

'Hahahah, _you can talk Miss Williams, you are often guilty by association_,' murmured Io, in a decent imitation of McGonagall. Morph choked on his banana, which reminded Io of yesterday's incident at breakfast, sending him into a brief fit of sniggering. Indeed, at the staff table, Flitwick had jumped a little in his seat, a petrified expression crossing his face as the Slackly boy seemed set to repeat history.

'And then he starts howling, and Dirk of course chews his head off! You should've been there,' he said, an expression of sheer awe stealing over his face. Morph nodded in agreement, one of the funnest things about Quidditch was watching what happened to those unfortunate sods who crossed their captain, except of course, when it happened to be one of them.

_**-The end...for now**_

_**Makomo**_


End file.
